A Promise In Time
by D.M. Hadsen
Summary: Separated by tragedy weeks before their wedding and bound by a promise that defies time, William Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet are given a second chance when they are reunited in the most surprising way imaginable. There's just one small catch - Elizabeth doesn't remember William at all. Will his love be enough to bridge the gap of time and tragedy and make her fall in love again?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 * A Promise in Time

 _ **Chapter 1**_

 _ **May 15, 1904**_

William Darcy descended the ladder as the first few drops of rain began to fall. He had, luckily, just finished installing the final window in his new home. He turned to tell his hired man to head home before the weather worsened when his attention was arrested by the sound of a deafening roar. William turned his gaze skyward and watched in stunned disbelief as a monstrous funnel cloud dropped down a half of a mile north of where he stood. Terror clutched his heart in an icy grasp.

" _No! Lizzy!"_ William shouted. His fiancé had left a half of an hour earlier to walk her favorite path on the prairies north of town.

William bolted to the stable and mounted his horse, not bothering to saddle it. He raced through the pelting rain toward Lizzy's father's home, hoping against hope that she was safely there, taking shelter. The mile-long ride seemed interminable. When he finally arrived in front of Lizzy's house, William quickly dismounted his horse, knowing that the well-trained animal would stand and wait for him or seek shelter if there were any danger. He pounded on the door. When he didn't receive an answer, he pushed it open and stepped inside. "Mr. Bennet!" William's deep voice called.

"William!" Mr. Bennet answered. The wiry, gray-haired man appeared at the top of the cellar stairs, wearing a panicked expression. "Is Elizabeth with you, William?" the older man asked, his voice frantic.

The wave of fear caused by Mr. Bennet's reply hit William like a punch to the gut. "No," he answered hoarsely, "No she is not." Guilt and fear washed over him, and he briefly closed his eyes against the onslaught of emotion and raised a hand to his forehead. For a moment, the floor seemed to shake beneath his feet and it felt as if the room – the whole world - were collapsing around him. When he opened his eyes, however, William saw that the four walls of the house still stood, and that complete silence had taken the place of the ferocious roar of the storm outside. He couldn't fight off the feeling of dread that overtook him, nor could he prevent the thought that followed - that the collapse he had obviously imagined may very well have been the once-sturdy walls of the life he had planned, collapsing around him in ruin.

William shook his head to dislodge the unsettling thought and quickly strode toward the door. "Lizzy went for a walk. She wanted to watch the storm. I was too busy with the house and couldn't go with her. I asked her not to go far, to keep an eye on the weather and to be careful. It's my fault she went alone! We must search for her! She could be injured or worse," he nearly shouted. When he didn't immediately hear a response, William turned to see Lizzy's father still standing at the top of the stairs, stunned.

Mr. Bennet swallowed visibly as he nodded his head and spoke slowly, "I'll round up some help and form a search party."

William nodded, and hurriedly left the house. He quickly mounted his horse and rode off to search for Lizzy.

 _ **May 15, 1905, one year later…**_

William sat down heavily on the cool, stone bench beneath the enormous cottonwood tree and leaned, exhausted against the massive trunk. He ran his hand through his dark hair, letting the incessant wind of the South Dakota prairie cool him. It was unseasonably warm for May, near one hundred degrees. He had walked the mile and a half from his home near the center of town in the afternoon heat to the prairie cemetery on the outskirts, choosing to forgo the use of his horse or carriage for the therapeutic effect of a long, solitary walk. He stared at the smooth, gray marble of the rounded stone in front of him and focused his eyes on the carved letters that formed the name of the only woman he had ever loved, shaded under the cottonwood trees she had adored.

As owner and president of his own bank, William normally kept strict hours at work, but on this day, the one-year anniversary of the tragedy that had changed his life, he had found it impossible to keep his attention focused on the work before him. He had left at noon and gone home to quickly change clothes, informing his housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds, that he would return before dinner. William's goal today was to attempt to put to rest the events of the past four years, and hopefully, if possible, move on with his life.

Impossible as that felt, it was what Elizabeth would have wanted. In fact, he was fairly certain that she would have been exceedingly annoyed with him if she could have seen the way he had been living during the past year. Only voluntarily leaving the house to go to work, foregoing most social invitations, and going for long, solitary walks, dwelling, miserably, on what could have been, what should have been for them. William slumped forward, resting his elbows on his knees and cradled his forehead in his hands.

His mind wandered back in time to the conversation that had been the impetus for his move west. He would never forget the day, four years ago, when he had approached his father about moving west, and starting a new life. He had been bored with life in Boston; he loathed the social obligations that had plagued him there and had wished for a life of more substance. He dreaded the thought of being shackled to a social climber who would not truly love or want him; only his money. Aside from being the only son of an old and prominent Beacon Hill family, he was independently wealthy. Upon his mother's death, six years prior to this particular conversation with his father, William had been left the entirety of her inheritance to do with as he saw fit. When in the care of William's careful and brilliant financial mind, the inheritance had increased threefold in that time and promised to continue to do so.

Upon hearing William's unexpected request to move away from his family home, his father had looked at him thoughtfully for several moments before he told William that he would have his decision by the next morning. William had inclined his head respectfully, turned, and left his father's study. His father's approval notwithstanding, William fully intended to go west. From what he had read and heard in tales from those who had traveled there, it was a land rich with opportunity, beauty, and promise.

After graduating from Harvard University, the year before his mother's death, William had begun working at the bank where he'd held the position of vice president. He had loved his work, and he was good at it. It had taken him a mere seven years to advance from loan officer to the more prestigious position at the bank. His plan was to open his own financial institution, far away from the busy streets and scheming socialites of the city he hated, and to settle under the vast skies and endless, beautiful prairies of the Midwest.

The next morning, William had been surprised by his father's decision. Although the longtime widower was sorry to see his only son move so far away, his father had been proud of the courage and independence of spirit it had taken to even consider such an endeavor. His father, therefore, agreed to not only give William's plans his blessing but to provide the funds for his son to establish a bank at a location of William's choice.

After arriving in Yankton, South Dakota, William had taken the short line rail to Loring and settled and built his bank in the quintessential, small Midwestern town of Brighton, ten miles away. It was also during his first year in Brighton that he met the beautiful Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Her beautiful, softly curved figure, sparkling green eyes, and chestnut hair had caught his attention, but it was her brilliant mind and loving heart that had held it.

Within a month of knowing her, he had, for the first time in his life, fallen in love. A year later, she had made him happier than he ever could have imagined by agreeing to become his wife. That year and the two years that followed had been perfect. Every moment not spent at the bank had been spent either with Lizzy, as he called her, or, when not with her, working to build a home for her.

They had loved walking, hand in hand through the tall, golden grasses of the beautiful, windblown prairies, discussing their future or finding shade beneath the giant cottonwood trees; those giants of the prairies which thrived along creeks and rivers, standing as symbols of fortitude and defiance of circumstance, that Lizzy had held a fascination and love for. When not with her, he worked diligently on their future home.

They had planned to marry after he completed building their home – a beautiful, sprawling, three-story Victorian house. He built it facing the east so that the multitude of beveled, leaded glass windows would catch the morning sunlight and cast dozens of tiny rainbows on the walls and floors. He remembered picturing how delighted Lizzy would be to see the rainbows she loved when she awoke to her first morning as his wife in the home he had built for her with his own hands.

And love them she did; when storms rolled across the prairies, Lizzy would excitedly watch the sky for a glimpse of the beautiful, frequent rainbows. Having been born and raised back east, William was slightly wary of his fiancé's love for the violent weather that seemed to plague the prairies during the months of April through September. However, he quickly learned that a person could get used to anything. Even agony.

It was during one such storm, a year ago, that his life had turned into a dark void, resembling the bleak and scarred landscape that the twisters were known to leave in their wake. William had planned to meet Lizzy for a walk that Sunday afternoon. He, however, along with a hired man who was assisting with the heavier aspects of building the house, had been in the middle of installing the final window, a large one on the north staircase landing. It was proving to be particularly difficult to finish. When William had seen Lizzy walking toward the building site, he made sure that the worker assisting him had a firm grip on the window before he quickly descended the ladder to regretfully inform her that he would be unable to join her for their planned walk that afternoon. He needed to finish installing the window before the rain in the overcast skies began to fall.

Lizzy had looked into his eyes, and with a teasing half-smile, stood on her tip-toes to lightly kiss the deeply-etched frown on his lips. Breaking into a wide grin, William had held her there, close to him for a moment.

She pulled away slightly to look up at the house, their future home, her arms still clasped around his waist. "It is beautiful, William, nearly finished," Lizzy said with a bright smile. "It's perfect…just like _you_." She looked back up at him and placed her right hand over his heart and moved her left up to gently trace the line of his jaw. "And I can't wait to begin our life together. I love you, with all my heart and I promise that I will, always, no matter what difficulties may come."

William had looked deeply into Lizzy's eyes then, as a sense of foreboding crept into his heart, a feeling which he had quickly dismissed as a ridiculous fancy. "I love you, too, Lizzy," William replied, slowly tracing a line with the backs of his fingers from her waist, over her ribs and shoulder to caress the soft skin of her cheek before tucking a wind-blown, chestnut curl behind her ear. "I always will. And, after we are married, I promise you that we will always be together. I only regret that we cannot at this moment, but unfortunately, it looks like rain and I still have to finish the window," he grimaced.

With one final, quick kiss, Lizzy pulled away with a smile. "Don't worry, William. I'll go alone, and I'll stay close to home. After all, it looks like we could have a dandy of a storm this afternoon, and I wouldn't want to miss that, now would I?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Lizzy!" William called as she turned to walk away. Lizzy turned to face him, one hand shading her eyes. "Be careful, Lizzy. I love you."

"Always", she had replied with a soft smile as she turned once again to walk away.

That had been the last time that William had seen Lizzy alive.

A half of an hour later, on that terrible afternoon, a powerful tornado hit without warning, missing the small town by a mere quarter of a mile, and destroying everything in its path. It had later been discovered that Elizabeth Bennet had been out walking on the edge of the prairie north of town, over her and William's favorite path when the storm had hit. Lizzy had attempted to take shelter in a dry creek bed beneath a cottonwood tree, the lowest point she could find, but the giant tree had been no match for the tornado, and it had fallen, crushing her beneath it.

William jerked upright, pulling himself back into the present and out of the black abyss that had been the past year of his life. He quickly wiped a few embarrassing tears from his eyes and rose from the bench. He walked slowly forward and placed his hand on the cold marble of the gravestone, the only physical link remaining to the woman he loved, would ever truly love, and gazed with bleary eyes at the engraving found there. It read, " _Elizabeth Rose Bennet, you will be loved forever across time, July 1, 1880 – May 15, 1904."_

"My Lizzy", William said, in a soft voice, "I promise that I _will love you_ , for the rest of my life, forever across time, however much time is allotted me. I feel that it _is_ my fault; that if I had been with you, if I had spent the afternoon with you as I promised, that you would still be alive, filling my world with your bright smile and love. Please, please forgive me for failing you, Lizzy. I wish, with all my heart that I could somehow, still be with you as I promised, to share a life with you. I love you, and I promise that I will do the best I can to live the life you would want me to live." William paused to clear his emotion-choked throat before continuing. "Until we meet again, love, goodbye." He gripped the headstone one last time in a loving gesture, and quickly turned and walked away from the cemetery on top of the hill.

When he reached home, William pushed open the heavy oak and leaded glass door of the rear entrance. He could smell the delicious aroma of Mrs. Reynolds' cooking as he walked through the kitchen hallway and into the parlor. He leaned heavily against the mantle of the massive, ornate central fireplace, and gazed into its cold grate, thinking of the hopes and dreams he had had when he had laid the bricks for it. He had imagined holding Lizzy, nestled securely in his arms on the hearth rug in front of it, talking, laughing, and staying warm together while watching the winter snows fall. Foolish dreams, all, he now realized.

William rested his forehead against his clenched fist, and with the agony of a broken heart in his voice, fervently whispered, "Dear Lord, if only I had a second chance. I loved her so much and still do. _It has been a_ year and my heart refuses to heal. No matter how hard I try to forget, my love for her will not fade. The pain only grows stronger with each passing month. I promised to love her across time, and I ask for Your help to fulfill that one promise remaining to me unconditionally, by living the full life Lizzy wanted for me and honoring our love for each other, even if it means living out the rest of my days alone. Please, Lord, help me and give me the strength to do so."

As William lifted his head and turned to walk toward the stairs, he was momentarily blinded by a flash of bright light - no doubt the refection of the late afternoon sun through one of the west-facing windows, he reasoned. He stumbled, catching himself with his hand on one of the massive wooden pillars that separated the formal sitting room from the parlor. William shook his head in an attempt to regain his bearings. The heat and emotional turmoil of the day must have been too much for him. Feeling somewhat embarrassed and foolish, he quickly regained his footing and opened his eyes to walk to the sitting room sofa. The sight before him sent a shock through him, momentarily stopping his heart.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

A/N: It's baa-aack! Albeit with some plot changes. I didn't like the way the story was heading and wasn't sure if I wanted to make it a fanfiction story or an original work. I may still turn it into an original piece, but this at least helps me get invaluable feedback, in the meantime!

Due to a crazy work schedule (I have three jobs and three kids), updates may be sporadic, so thanks in advance for your patience. Reviews and criticism are always welcome and greatly appreciated.

P.S.: A note on Victorian style architecture: Although Queen Victoria's reign only extended to 1901, Victorian style architecture encompasses the Edwardian era as well, extending the architecture style time-period to 1910.

P.S.S.: Bonus points for you if visions of Chris Pine, standing in a waterfall while singing the song "Agony" from _Into the Woods_ popped into your mind when you read that particular word in this chapter. Ha XD


	2. Chapter 2

**_Chapter 2_**

 ** _Present day_**

Elizabeth Bennet pushed open the heavy oak and leaded glass door at the rear entrance of the big Victorian house and tossed her keys and purse onto the countertop as she stepped into the spacious, sunny kitchen. She had just finished her workday at her job as assistant editor of the local newspaper and had walked the three short blocks from the newspaper office at the center of town, to her home.

The job title sounded more impressive than it really was, considering that there were only seven employees who worked in the news office of the Brighton Weekly; newspaper to the good people of Brighton, South Dakota, population 6,179. With a bachelor's degree in hand at the age of twenty-two, she had been hired on as proofreader, gopher, and trash emptier at her hometown newspaper. After two years, she had worked her way sufficiently through the ranks to the position of assistant editor.

After being promoted to her current position three years ago, Elizabeth had settled in and purchased a beautiful, mostly restored, Victorian house, complete with a huge front porch, for a steal. She had fallen in love with the home even more so after living there. She still treasured the memory of her first morning in the house. She had awoken to the sight of skies filled with the beautiful streaks of pink, orange, yellow and purple of a sunrise, visible through the large east-facing master bedroom windows. After descending the staircase that first morning and pausing to admire the view from the massive window on the landing, she'd discovered that the multitude of beveled, leaded glass windows on the first floor had captured the morning sunlight, casting dozens of tiny rainbows across the walls and floor.

Elizabeth allowed her large golden retriever, Harold, to enter the kitchen before she re-locked the back door. After settling Harold in with his food and water bowls, Elizabeth removed her denim jacket, walked into the living room and turned on the television as she blissfully sank into the soft comfort of an overstuffed, leather couch. She settled in to await the arrival of the plumber, who was scheduled to show up to fix the basement floor drain. The familiar _M*A*S*H_ theme music played as she pulled a cozy, grandma-made quilt over her shoulders while the late afternoon sun, shining through the room's southern window, cast its golden warmth over her face. It wasn't long before Elizabeth drifted peacefully off to sleep.

OOOoooOOOoooOOO

William's heart, after feeling as though it had been shocked into stillness, pounded back to life as he rapidly blinked his eyes. Raising a hand to his forehead, he shook his head once more in an attempt to clear it. Logically, William knew he was standing in his own sitting room. The hand that he had stopped himself from stumbling with still gripped the same square, wooden pillar confirming that fact. He looked around in bewilderment. Everything was the same, but different. Gone were the luxurious, red velvet drapes that had adorned the windows; light and airy white lace curtains hung in their place. The furnishings were different as well. Unknown artwork hung on the walls, and in place of the blue, velvet and mahogany sofa and loveseat, large, brown leather ones stood instead. "What on earth," William began before his attention was captured by the form of a sleeping woman on the sofa.

The sight of the chestnut brown head, just visible above the top of a quilt, made him catch his breath. His eyes traveled to her face, which was partially covered by the blanket and waves of soft hair. Long, black lashes touched her cheek and her lips were slightly parted in sleep. Fear, incredulity, and confusion seized William's heart, for there, very much alive, lay his Lizzy, asleep upon the sofa.

William dropped to his knees before her. Raking a hand through his hair, he looked around the room again in confusion. The walls he had built, the floor he had laid stood around him, but nothing in the room was his. Lizzy lay asleep before him, but he had just come from her _grave._

William's quick mind rapidly groped for an explanation. He mentally retraced his steps. He had prayed, asking for the strength to keep his final promise to Lizzy. After that, he'd turned to go upstairs and had been blinded by the flash of light that had caused him to stumble. William slowly turned his head to look out the porch window, toward the street. His eyes widened in disbelief, for what had been an empty field between his home and the center of town this morning, now held several houses. The street was lined with bizarre vehicles he didn't recognize; they looked nothing like the horse-drawn carriages or even the automobiles he was accustomed to.

William abruptly stood and stared out the window in amazement. He rapidly walked to the southern window of the sitting room and moved aside the lace curtains, only to discover that the two-story carriage house was gone; a neighboring single-story white house stood in its place. A multitude of thoughts and scenarios spun in his overwrought mind, as he placed his hands on his head and began to pace the familiar floor.

Several things were the same - the house for example - but everything else was different from what he knew it to be! It was almost as if he were seeing his home and the surrounding neighborhood as it might be several years in the future. The future! He was out of place – out of time it seemed. Out of time! What a thought - but that was insane! Impossible! Perhaps he was dreaming, or having a mental breakdown. Maybe he hadn't caught himself when he stumbled after all, but had in fact fallen and hit his head, and was even now lying on the parlor floor, unconscious. He chuckled darkly at the thought. But he could feel the solid floor beneath his feet, the warm, late spring breeze blowing across his face from the open windows, and the warmth of the afternoon sun on his skin. He reasoned that he must be sane, awake and definitely conscious to feel and interpret those sensations.

William stopped his pacing in front of the sofa and sank to his knees once more. _Lizzy_. Why was Lizzy here? How was she here? Where _was_ here? Looking down at her beloved face, he felt… _Wait a moment_ , he thought in some alarm. He felt? William hadn't felt anything but desolation, and later, grief and numbness for the past year. Now, a multitude of feelings and emotions surged through him. He felt overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught of confusion and fear for his unknown circumstances and what it meant. And, as he looked down at the sleeping woman who still held his heart, he felt hope and love _._ Those two emotions that he had thought he would never feel again were now overpowering him with their intensity.

Wherever he was and whatever this place held for him, he would gladly embrace it, for it had, at that moment, appeared to have given him everything he could have hoped for. It had given him Lizzy. William leaned forward and gently pulled down the edge of the blanket to view as much of the sleeping girl's beloved face as possible. Very softly, so as not to wake her, William lightly rested his hand on her warm cheek. His thumb softly traced her high cheekbone and his long fingers gently curved around to the nape of her neck in a gentle caress. The unconscious Lizzy nestled into his touch, just as she had always done and softly kissed the inside of his wrist. The familiar action filled his heart with warmth.

"William," she sighed.

In the next instant, William felt Lizzy tense beneath his hand, and her emerald green eyes flew open.

OOOoooOOOoooOOO

As Elizabeth slept, warmed by the quilt and the afternoon sunlight, she dreamt of being held in strong arms, a feeling of safety and peace enveloping her. In her dream, her heart felt whole. The void that she knew to exist there, which she had been unable to fill with her job and family, was gone as if the final piece of the puzzle of her heart had suddenly snapped into place. She felt a strong, warm hand touch her face, drawing her lovingly out of her dream. Somehow, the touch felt familiar. The memory of it stirred in the recesses of her sleepy brain. The whisper of a name wove its way through her heart and mind, leaving the same feeling of peace and warmth behind it. _"William,"_ it whispered.

Elizabeth, unwilling to give up contact with the wonderful dream, nestled her head into the warmth of the hand still resting against her cheek. She turned her head slightly to kiss the inside of the wrist of the man whom, in her dream, she knew she loved. "William," she whispered, as she felt herself being drawn out of sleep. Her eyes opened to the sight of a man kneeling beside her, his eyes lovingly focused on her own.

Elizabeth froze, and stared with wide, shock-filled eyes, at the neatly dressed, very tall, broad-shouldered, unknown man in front of her. Her heart stopped and jumped into her throat as fear seized her. Then, she simply reacted to the shock of seeing an intruder in her home. Elizabeth instinctively pulled her knees to her chest and used all her strength to launch a double-footed kick to the man's chest and abdomen. It was enough to knock him off balance, sending his powerful frame sprawling across the living room floor.

 _Holy crap, he's a big guy!_ Elizabeth thought. At well over a foot taller than her barely more than five-foot frame, she knew that the man sprawled on the floor in front of her could squash her like a bug if he wanted to. With that thought in mind, Elizabeth quickly sprang from the couch, just as the man began picking himself up off the floor.

She ran to the big, central fireplace in the next room and hastily grabbed the iron poker, holding it up like a baseball bat. She turned to face the strange man who, by then, had managed to straighten to his full height. The man grimaced, rubbing his chest in obvious pain.

Her first coherent thought, oddly enough, was that he was easily the best-looking man she had ever laid eyes on. She quickly looked him over, trying to judge who he was and where - or how - he had gotten into her house. He wore well-tailored, black pants, a crisp, white dress shirt and a very old-fashioned-looking black vest with a gold watch chain draped from the pocket, similar to the ones she had seen men in period-piece movies wear. He had a strong, angular jaw, which, at the moment, was clenched tightly against the pain he must have felt from her well-placed kick. His hair was so dark that it appeared to be almost black, and charcoal eyebrows arched over dark-lashed, deep blue eyes; eyes which were staring at her with an expression of mixed awe, disbelief, and wariness.

He was gorgeous. He hardly looked like the criminal type and definitely nothing like the large, balding plumber she had been waiting for. _Pity,_ she thought. _Plumbers would definitely make more money if they looked like him._

Holding the poker up a little higher and shifting into a defensive stance, Elizabeth felt her fear melt a little. Finding her voice, she demanded, "Who are you and what are you doing in my house? You need to get out of here, now!" She tightened her grip on the poker. The man continued to stand there, staring at her with a puzzled expression. "Now! Right now, get out or I swear I will clobber you, you…who _are_ you?" Elizabeth took a tentative step forward, flexing her arms as she adjusted her grip on the poker, preparing to strike. As she did so, the man's expression changed to one of perplexed amusement. "Who are you?" she repeated, annunciating each word.

The deep, refined sound of the man's voice broke the momentary silence. "Lizzy…" he said softly as he raised both hands in front of his chest in a gesture of surrender. "It's me, William."

Elizabeth's eyes widened and she felt her fingertips grow numb. The iron poker clattered to the floor. She hastily bent to pick it up, not daring to relinquish her death stare on the man in front of her. The edge of the memory of her dream flitted through her mind and she grasped onto it. William. _His_ name. The safety she felt in the arms of the man in the dream. The familiar touch of his hand. She had known it was his name, had known his touch, but how? _Utterly impossible._

"Oh-ho, no!" Elizabeth exclaimed. " _Who are you?_ This…this can't be real." She shook her head in disbelief. _"_ I dreamt of you. You were in my _dream._ What, are you one of those…those mind control guys," she uncharacteristically fumbled for the correct word. "Hypnotist – that's it!" she exclaimed with raised eyebrows as she uneasily shifted her stance. "I don't know you. I've never seen you before in my life!"

Elizabeth allowed the arm holding the fire poker to drop to her side, as she searched his face. "I only just dreamt of you…and somehow," she raised her free hand to her temple, "Somehow, I knew…heard your name." Elizabeth sighed heavily, shaking her head. "Look, tell me exactly who you are, how you know my name, and what is going _on_ here."

"I am William Darcy, owner and president of the bank down the road," he explained, his voice soft and tender, as he gestured absently in the general direction of the town's business district. "And you, Elizabeth Bennet, are my fianceé, the love of my life and the woman I built this house for." He had begun to take slow, measured steps toward her with his last words.

Elizabeth raised a halting hand. "Okay, hold up. First of all, I don't know who you are, and I'm _not engaged_ to anyone! Are you crazy? As far as _I_ know _,_ I could still be dreaming, or imagining you!" She felt like she was on the verge of hyperventilating. Elizabeth closed her eyes and attempted to slow her breathing. It'd really suck to pass out in front of the guy. Not to mention that knowing her luck, she'd probably fall and impale herself on the sharp end of the fire poker; hoisted by her own petard! Her best friend, Charlotte, would probably giggle at the irony in that. At her funeral. During the eulogy. _Ugh._

Deciding that the improvisational weapon she held was probably more of a threat to her immediate safety than the man standing before her, Elizabeth turned and walked to the fireplace, returning the poker to its proper spot. For some unknown reason, she no longer felt William was a threat to her. She realized, while putting away her "weapon," that she had begun to feel the safety she had felt in her dream returning in his presence. _Odd,_ she thought.

Quickly returning to the issue at hand, Elizabeth continued to process the rest of William's words. He had said that he was the president of the bank - that was absurd - she knew the president of the bank and it certainly wasn't the man standing before her - and that he had built this house for his fianceé, whom he claimed was her!

A memory tickled at the edge of Elizabeth's mind and she gasped, her hand moving quickly to cover her mouth. When she had first moved into the house, her curious mind had prompted her to briefly research its builder and origins. Though the builder's name had not been listed, the woman at the historical society had told her that the owner of one of the first banks in the small town had built the house for his fianceé as a wedding gift, but some tragedy had struck, and they never married.

Finding her voice again, Elizabeth looked back to William with wide eyes and spoke. "How is that possible? How can that be? Please, tell me exactly what happened and how you got here." Pieces of the perplexing puzzle were beginning to fit roughly together. His clothes, odd speech patterns, the formal tone of his voice and the fact that he claimed to be the builder of the house, all pointed to an impracticable conclusion. _Impossible,_ she thought _._

"I do not know," William replied, the confusion in his voice softening Elizabeth's heart. "I had just returned home from," William paused a moment as a shadow of profound grief passed over his countenance. He reached a large hand up and ran it over his face as if trying to wipe away the evidence of the powerful emotion shown there. "I had just returned from…a walk," he continued, glancing sideways at Elizabeth before fixing his eyes on the wall behind her. "I entered my home and stood by the fireplace, then I turned to go upstairs and was disoriented by a flash of bright light and I nearly fell," he explained with a humorless chuckle. "When I regained my footing, I was here, still in my home, but all of the furnishings were different and there you lay…" William's voice trailed off as he gestured toward the now empty couch with one hand and toward her with the other. "I cannot help but notice how much things have changed inside and out…almost as if I had…as if I am now standing in my home several years in the future, but that is _impossible_ and yet…" his voice trailed off once more.

William turned back toward Elizabeth and raised a hand to rest on the back of his neck as he searched for the right words to express his thoughts. Elizabeth stared at him with an expression in her eyes that he had never seen before; one of doubt – doubt in him. "Perhaps my prayers have been answered and we really have been given a second chance," he murmured, still staring at her. "That is the only explanation I can find for your existence here and mine. I cannot help but believe that we have been granted a rare and wonderful gift."

William's eyes lovingly traced her face and figure. She was still the same Lizzy. Her figure was a bit fuller now but in all the right places. He couldn't help but be awed by the tantalizing effect of this small change which was amplified by the clothing she wore. She was dressed in what appeared to be form-fitting, dark blue men's trousers and a tight, light blue cotton top, which left most of her arms uncovered and hugged the curve of her hips before it followed the narrow line of her trim waist and curved generously again over her chest. William was made aware of the fact that he was staring by the rapid staccato of Lizzy's impatiently tapping foot. He quickly looked up at her face, his cheeks bronzing with embarrassment when he realized that he'd been caught looking. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him with a look he had seen on more than one occasion. Lizzy was _angry_ with him. The corner of his mouth turned up and he tried not to chuckle. Goodness, but she was beautiful!

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows, her green eyes flashing in annoyance. "Are you done?" she asked in an acerbic tone.

William grinned. "I love the way you look when you're angry. Although, I've fortunately only seen you thus a few times, at least directed toward me." He took a step closer, reaching out to gently caress her face. Elizabeth reared her head back in surprise and took several steps backward. Her not so subtle rejection of his touch hit William with surprising force. "Forgive me," he whispered, lowering his eyes to the floor. "I forgot myself for a moment."

Elizabeth dropped her arms to her sides. The look of rejection and sadness on William's handsome face was heartbreaking. Closing the distance between them, Elizabeth tentatively moved her hand to rest on his arm, which was warm and very solid. So much for her theory of this being a dream. William moved his other hand up and rested it on top of hers, his big hand engulfing her smaller one as he wove his fingers around her own, his touch sending sparks to every part of her body. Elizabeth gasped and looked up at his face in surprise.

William's eyes and soft expression showed nothing but love. He reached his hand up, lightly, almost reverently, to touch her cheek. The same feeling of peace and completeness that she had felt in her dream engulfed her once again and she lowered her eyes to her hand still resting on his arm. Gently, William lifted her chin, raising her eyes to his once more.

"Lizzy," he began, "This question may sound very strange, but it will either prove or disprove my theory. What year is it?"

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOOooOOO

 **A/N:** I have the day off and my kids are being relatively good *knocks on wooden tabletop* hence the speedy update. Chapter three is roughed out, so it shouldn't be too terribly long in coming.

It's not going to be an easy road for Elizabeth and William, but there will be a happily ever after. How would you feel, were you in William's shoes? Or Elizabeth's, for that matter? Please sound off in the comments, I'd love to read your thoughts on the matter. : ).


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"What _year_ is it?" Elizabeth echoed. "Um," she swallowed thickly, the feeling of William's fingertips beneath her chin distracting her momentarily from the question at hand. She was a space bubble person. Infringe upon it, and risk losing an appendage. "It's May tenth, 2018."

William's eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. His hands fell to his sides as he staggered back a step and sank heavily onto the sofa. Releasing a deep breath, he rested his forearms on his knees and clasped his hands together in front of him.

Still a little stunned by his question and the events of the afternoon, Elizabeth paused a moment to regroup and organize her thoughts. "William," she began tentatively, scrunching her eyebrows together and squinting one eye shut in fear of his response, "What's so wrong with the date?"

William lifted his eyes from the wood floor to rest once again on Elizabeth's green ones, his features expressionless. "Nothing. Nothing except that when I returned home from my walk to the cemetery this afternoon, it was May tenth, 1905."

It was Elizabeth's turn to be surprised. "1905! So… what? You're implying that you traveled through time?" She scoffed in disbelief and slapped a hand over her eyes. She shook her head. "No. No! That's impossible! _Isn't it_?" She began to pace back and forth across the room in a state of distracted thought, muttering to herself as she attempted to make some sense of the reason for William's presence in her living room. "Then again, who knows," she shrugged and stopped pacing, to massage her aching temples. "I mean, there are a lot of things we don't know about, scientifically speaking, but _this_! This is somewhere between fantastical and just plain _crazy._ "

Then, the rest of his words hit her. Pausing her rambling, she parted two fingers of the hand still covering her eyes and peered out between them at William. Empathy for the man sitting on her sofa pulled at her heart. "Wait. Did you say that you were at the cemetery?" She walked over to join him and sat down on the opposite end of the couch. When William didn't look up, Elizabeth tentatively touched his shoulder. When he glanced up at her with pain-filled eyes, she gave him a sympathetic smile. "I hate cemeteries. I never go. Not even on Memorial Day to visit my grandparents' graves. I don't know why. They just freak me out for some reason. Not in like a zombies-rising-from-the-ground way, but they're just so sad and…well, there're dead bodies everywhere and just…I can't." She shivered and shook her head. "Anyway, sorry for rambling there. So, why were you there, if you don't mind me asking? I mean, I hope everything's okay and it wasn't anyone super close or anything. I know how tough that can be." Realizing she was rambling yet again, Elizabeth abruptly stopped talking and waited for his reply.

William was still attempting to mentally deduce how he had apparently traveled more than a century through time and why and how Lizzy was _here_ of all places when he heard her question his reason for visiting the cemetery that day. He hadn't meant to let that part slip. His heart sank, and his mouth went dry as he shifted in his seat to look at her. "Lizzy," William began, his voice rough, "I…" he tried to come up with a believable reason, other than the horrible truth, to explain why he had gone on his improvisational walk that afternoon, but looking into her eyes, he realized that he couldn't lie to her. Honesty had always been a crucial part of their relationship, and he would not change that now. He searched his mind for a way to explain without scaring the girl he loved. Running a hand through his hair, William began, "Lizzy, I don't know how to begin or what to say."

Elizabeth reached over and squeezed his hand in a reassuring gesture.

William quickly grasped her hand before she could withdraw it again, lacing his fingers with hers. The familiar feeling of her touch gave him the courage to continue. "Lizzy, I lost you precisely one year ago today." He paused a moment, furrowing his eyebrows. "Well, I suppose it was _one hundred and thirteen_ years ago today." He glanced askance, before meeting her eyes again.

Elizabeth stared blankly back, her expression told him that she was seriously doubting his sanity.

Shaking his head to dislodge the confusing thoughts that threatened to overwhelm him, he continued. "We had planned to go walking together, but I was unable to go with you that day. I was installing the final window in this house, and so you went alone. You loved watching the storms and the rainbows that follow them." William exhaled heavily and picked up her hand with both of his. She flinched but didn't pull away. Her reaction sent another twinge of pain through his heart. He wondered briefly how much pain one person could take before it became too much to bear. "Shortly after you left, there was a terrible storm. The tornado was very powerful and destroyed everything in its path. You tried to take cover, but a tree fell and you…you were crushed." His voice had grown a bit shaky by the end of his speech and he raised a hand and ran it over his eyes. "And it was my fault. It was your grave I went to the cemetery to visit today."

Elizabeth's face registered her shock and a chill raced down her spine. _Whoa. That was heavy,_ she thought.

She couldn't imagine the amount of effort and self-control that William had to be exerting at present to deal with everything that had happened to him and still maintain a mostly-calm demeanor. Returning from the grave of his fiancée, supposedly traveling more than a century forward in time – or at least _he_ believed that he had - and seeing his familiar world transformed into something alien. Not to mention seeing _her,_ who by a freak coincidence happened to look just like his dead fiancée and shared her name as well, asleep in what he believed to be his home. It was too much. All she had had to deal with was a minor scare when she had woken up to him and not the expected plumber.

Finally, after a long silence, Elizabeth spoke, "Look, William," she paused to moisten her lips with her tongue before continuing, "you know, I am not 'your Lizzy'. I mean, it's just not possible. It's purely coincidence. I was born in the 1990s. I have a mom and dad here – even a brother!" I have memories of my childhood." Her shoulders sagged a bit as she searched his eyes and saw the love and hope he held for the woman he'd lost, reflected in them. "Don't you see? It's just impossible."

"But you knew my name. Somehow, perhaps subconsciously, but still, you know who I am," William insisted. "Your face, your smile, your voice, the way you reacted to my touch while you slept. Just the same as a hundred times before, and your name. The fact that you believe and trust me, even now. I know you well enough to know that you do not trust easily, nor are you fond of strangers and yet, here you sit."

Elizabeth bit her lower lip, searching for the right thing to say that wouldn't hurt the man sitting next to her even more. She closed her eyes and took a slow, deep breath. "I can't believe I'm even having this conversation," she muttered under her breath. "Okay, I accept the fact that I may _look_ remarkably similar to, and share the same name with _your_ Lizzy. I just don't know how it's possible that I am. I mean, she _died_ , William!"

Pain flashed through his eyes at her pronouncement.

Elizabeth raised her fingertips to her temples. "Okay, _wow_ that did _not_ come out right. I mean, I don't know how I knew your name or why I felt like I had reacted that way to you before. No idea." Elizabeth insisted, making a slashing motion through the air with both hands, signifying she was finished trying to explain the coincidence.

William slid over slightly on the sofa and closed the gap between them. He put one arm around her shoulders and moved the other to gently lift her chin and turn her head toward him. "Lizzy, it is because you are one and the same. I don't know how, but I am going to trust it. I do not believe that it is only wishful thinking on my part. I like to think myself a sensible man, not one who is easily influenced by fanciful thinking. There are many things at work here that neither of us understands or thought possible. Time travel. Impossible, and yet, I am here. As are you. I trust science is not so advanced even in this day and age that it can explain every miraculous occurrence."

Elizabeth stared at him blankly, trying to come up with a responding argument, but she couldn't. As William had said, there were too many factors at play here to rule out his theory as a possibility. Somehow, impossibly, and despite her protests to the contrary, she knew him. Knew his name and his touch and felt as if she had always known it. She hated being touched or held, and yet she felt safe, comfortable even, in his embrace. And he was right about her trust issues, too. Not even her parents knew about that struggle. She never talked about it, and it was knowledge only someone who knew her very, very well would have been privy to. Apparently, she trusted him enough to let him invade her space bubble and wrap his arm around her, because here he was, and she hadn't yet felt the familiar panic that normally seized her when someone touched her. And she was beginning to actually entertain the possibility that he had traveled in time, difficult as it was to accept.

"Well," Elizabeth sighed briskly, fisting her hands at her sides and attempting to smile cheerfully. "It's something to think about." She looked down at her watch. "Holy cow! It's six o'clock!" she exclaimed, effectively changing the subject. "I take it that means that the plumber isn't showing up to fix the drain line today." she rose to her feet and rolled her eyes in annoyance. "Gah, whatever."

Elizabeth stood, with her hands on her hips, her eyes unseeingly focused straight ahead. She pursed her lips as she tried to think of something, anything to say to this man that wouldn't provoke another discussion full of unanswerable questions. She had to decide what to do with him. She couldn't just kick him out. For Pete's sake, he believed that he had traveled through time! And, there was a pretty believable, if impossible, chance that he really had. He was either a few French fries short of a happy meal or a time traveler. Either way, she couldn't set him loose on the town, and he didn't seem to be a danger to her at the moment, anyway. She needed a way to distract him and to distance herself from him, so she latched on to the first thought that came to mind. She'd take him on a tour of the historic home he claimed to have built. That should put off any deeper discussion for a while, at least.

The familiar sight of Lizzy's thoughtful expression touched William's heart. He had seen it many times, whenever she had been deep in thought. He took her distraction as an opportunity to study her once more. The early evening sunlight shone through the southern window behind her, highlighting her figure. She wore her soft, brown hair down, the long waves tumbling over her shoulders to below her chest and down past the middle of her back. The sight made him catch his breath.

"Lizzy?" William inquired in a quiet voice.

"Yeah," she answered. She had been so deep in thought, that his voice had startled her a bit. She turned her eyes to William, who still sat on the couch with his arms resting on his thighs, his hands clasped in front of him.

"How did you come to be here, in this house, at this time?" he, asked, his voice solemn.

Elizabeth's eyes met his deep blue ones before she shrugged and answered in what she hoped was a casual voice. "Oh, you know, graduated from college, got a job, saved my money." Seeing his dark look, she sighed heavily and rolled her eyes, somehow knowing that he expected more of an explanation than she had offered. "I grew up in this town, born and raised. I bought the house a few years ago when it came up for sale. I never thought that I'd ever be able to afford a home like this. I remember riding past it on my bike as a kid and thinking how cool it'd be to live here someday, but, anyway, the owner had moved and needed to sell it in a hurry. He had already had it listed for over a year with no bites, and he had lowered the price substantially. So, when I came along and put an even lower bid in on it, he took it." Her eyes took on a far-away look. "I love it here. I realize it's kind of big for just one person," she shrugged her shoulders, "but, I love it. I remember my first morning here," she said softly. "I woke to the view of the most beautiful sunrise from my bedroom window, and when I came downstairs that morning, the windows had caught the sunlight and cast rainbows everywhere! That made my whole day happier." Elizabeth smiled. "I love rainbows." Feeling slightly embarrassed by the childish-sounding admission, she felt warmth flash across her cheeks. She glanced at William where he sat on the couch, staring at her with an indecipherable expression.

"I know you do," he said, with a soft smile. "That's why I put beveled glass windows in the house, you know. Just to make you smile, to see your face light up every morning at the sight of the rainbows you love so much."

Elizabeth's breath caught in her chest. What man, anywhere, cared about a woman so much that he'd take a detail as small as that about her and incorporate it into a home he built for her with his own two hands? Uncharacteristic tears sprang to her eyes and she covered her mouth with her hand as she realized how deeply he must have loved the woman he lost. Her heart whispered, _"It was for you,"_ but she pushed the thought away. There were still too many uncertainties and impossibilities about the whole situation for her to believe that. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

William stood and stepped over to where Lizzy stood, a few feet away. He embraced her gently, pulling her to him. Bending to rest his forehead on the top of her head, he whispered "Shh, love, it's alright. It's alright."

As she stood, enfolded in his embrace, Elizabeth felt as if she were safe and cared for. _But, all good things must come to an end,_ she thought uncomfortably. After a couple of brief seconds, she hastily pulled away from him and quickly stepped back. "I'm sorry about that," she said, putting on a sheepish smile. Elizabeth laughed uncomfortably and tried to meet his eyes, but William stood, arms at his sides, staring studiously at her left shoulder, a muscle in his tense jaw twitching. "Oookay, so… hey," she called, waving a hand in front of his eyes to get his attention.

William shook his head and rapidly blinked a few times before focusing on Lizzy once more.

"Hey, are you okay?" she asked again.

 _Was he okay?_ William thought. He had held her in his arms to comfort her and she had pulled away from him. William realized that he would have to take things very, very slowly with her until she either remembered the love they had once shared or until she could learn to love him once more. Could he be so fortunate as to make her fall in love with him twice? He reminded himself that it had only been less than an hour since he first "arrived" here. All things considered, some progress was being made, he reasoned, considering that he had progressed to this point from being kicked in the chest and threatened with death by fire poker. Being allowed to embrace her, if only for a few seconds, was definitely a step in the right direction. He laughed softly at the thought.

"What?" Elizabeth asked, tilting her head as if trying to read his expression, a small smile on her face.

"Nothing," William answered enigmatically. He raised a hand to the back of his neck and smiled softly at her.

"Alrighty then. Well, would you like a tour of the house? If, in fact, you did build it, which you apparently whole-heartedly believe, even if I'm skeptical, then maybe you could tell me what each room was intended for, what's changed and what's stayed the same." Elizabeth waited for his response, feeling a little nervous about what his answer might be.

"Of course," he answered, bowing his head in an old-fashioned gesture that made her grin.

"Cool," she smiled, and without thinking too much about it, grabbed William's hand, and pulled him along behind her to begin the tour.

William had to smile at the sight of the small woman he loved leading him from room to room. The first floor with the kitchen, dining room, reception hall, parlor and sitting room had not changed much over the intervening century. The once-shining woodwork was a little dull and faded, but that was to be expected from more than a century of wear and was nothing that he couldn't fix. The west stairway, which had led from the kitchen to the family floor upstairs, had been removed, and what Lizzy called a mud room had taken its place. The basement had changed drastically. What had once been the servants' quarters was now divided into a storage room, a bedroom, a utility room, a bathroom and what she called a media room, with what she had referred to as a movie projection screen covering most of one wall. The room also contained a billiards table and a few comfortable-looking sofas. William's heart grew a bit heavier when they reached the second floor.

Elizabeth opened the door of the first room at the top of the stairs, a tiny bedroom with beautiful, oak plate rail lining the walls. "I have to ask," she turned to him with a curious look in her eyes, "what was this room for? Was it a sitting room of some sort or what? It's much smaller than the other bedrooms."

William released a slow, measured breath before answering, fighting for control of the emotions that had overwhelmed him as they had climbed the staircase to the rooms he had built to house the lives he had hoped would fill this home. "A nursery," he replied in a hoarse voice. "It was built with the hope that it would one day soon, serve as a nursery." He quickly turned and exited the room, breathing deeply as he stepped out into the hallway.

"I'm sorry, William," Elizabeth whispered, coming to stand next to him.

He looked down at Lizzy's sorrowful face before he shook his head and picked up her hand to raise it to his lips and kissed the backs of her fingers. "Never be sorry, Lizzy. You have done nothing wrong. It's only me. So many hopes and dreams that were never realized." Kissing her hand once more, he lowered their joined hands before tucking her hair behind her ear, just as he had done hundreds of times before. The familiarity of the action brought a bit of peace to his heart. "But, I hope that one day those dreams will have another chance." He stepped around her to open another door, breaking the tense moment, and they continued on with the tour.

Reaching the last door of the long hallway, Elizabeth gestured to the room beyond and announced with a cheerful smile, "And this is my room." She walked through the door and sat down on the edge of the bed.

William raised a hand to rub the back of his neck, as he looked around the master bedroom that was Lizzy's, had been his, was meant for them. As his eyes scanned the room, he took in every detail. It was so like her. The room was impeccably clean; the only furniture therein were three tall bookshelves, all heavily laden with books, stacked two deep and more piled into every available space on top of the stacks. A light-colored wooden dresser and a cedar chest at the foot of the large, oak, four-poster bed completed the furnishings. Black, iron candle sconces adorned the walls, along with a few small paintings and a large, flat, black rectangle, similar to the one he had noticed in the sitting room.

When his eyes landed on Lizzy, who was seated on the bed, William felt warmth rise to his cheeks as he was reminded of how he had dreamed about what they would share in this room as husband and wife. He took a deep breath and quickly turned away and walked to a bookshelf, under the pretense of examining the titles of Lizzy's books. His chest felt like it was in knots. He heard the soft squeak of the mattress springs as she rose from the bed and walked over to where he stood.

"See any titles you recognize?" she inquired with a smile in her voice.

"Hmm, oh no, no." William quickly replied. Truthfully, he hadn't actually seen any of the book titles. His mind had been bombarded with thoughts of Lizzy and himself. And the bed.

"Really?" Elizabeth asked, genuine curiosity in her voice. "Not even Tom Sawyer, or A Study in Scarlet or the volume of Dickens' works?" Not waiting for an answer, she continued, something on the shelf having caught her attention.

William studied her profile; he had always loved that about her; she always found excitement and happiness in everything in life. He looked to where she was pointing as she extended her arm to grab a book.

"This was published only a few years after you claim to hail from! It's called Tarzan of the Apes, by Edgar Rice Burroughs. He's probably my all-time favorite author," she grinned, excited to share something of herself with this man whom she felt strangely connected to.

Lizzy always had loved to read, William reflected. Occasionally, one of them would bring a book along on their walks and they would read aloud to each other, discussing and enjoying the stories together. William carefully took the book from her hands and examined the cover, running his hand over its red, cloth surface. "Perhaps we might read it together," he suggested in a soft voice.

Elizabeth reached out and touched his arm, a concerned look clouding her face. "Hey," she whispered, "are you alright?"

The fear and pain that he might again lose her returned as William turned his eyes to Lizzy's. He intently studied the beautiful details of her face before he raised his hand, his fingertips lightly touching her neck just below her ear. He softly traced her cheek with his thumb. "I do not know how I could ever stand to lose you again, Lizzy. I promise that I will do everything I can to protect you and to make you happy and safe," he whispered.

Whoa, Elizabeth thought, her heart stuttering in its rhythm. Those are words every girl wants to hear! And his touch… She reached her hand up to grasp his, pulling it gently away from her face. "Whoa, big guy," she laughed uncomfortably. "Slow down a little there. Let's just take things a little bit at a time here and see what happens, until we figure out what's going on, okay? After all, you might find that you don't like me as much as you think you do," she smiled teasingly. "One day at a time, William."

William gently squeezed the hand he still held, much as Lizzy's familiar half-smile seemed to squeeze his heart, reminding him of the last time she had looked at him that way. It was all he could do not to hold her close and kiss her, as he had been so used to doing when she had given him such a look in the past. He had learned that kissing her was a very effective way to stop her teasing, and to distract her attention. "I am sorry. I am just not used to…not touching you when I am with you." He released the breath he'd been holding before settling his features into a serious expression and continuing. "I do understand, Lizzy, but know this, love, I promise you I will not give up. I will do everything I can to have another chance to love you." At this, William brought her hand to his lips again and softly kissed the back of it, before he returned it to her side.

Elizabeth stared. She realized her mouth was hanging open and she quickly shut it, a blush rising to her cheeks. Once again, she found herself wondering, _who says that? Yikes. Distance. I definitely need some distance_ , she thought.

"Okay," she smiled brightly. "How about supper?" Knowing she was probably giving him a deer-in-the-headlights look, along with a smile that felt fake, even to herself, she quickly turned to walk down the hallway toward the stairs, not waiting for William's reply.

William stared at her retreating back for a moment before a smile lifted the corner of his mouth. "Of course," he agreed as he began to follow her down the hallway, "that sounds wonderful."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

In the kitchen, Elizabeth began pulling the ingredients for spaghetti out of the cupboards and fridge and filled a pot with water to cook the noodles. Feeling William's eyes on her, she looked over her shoulder to find him watching everything she did with interest, a thoughtful expression lighting his eyes. "Sorry there's not much here besides diet stuff, cereal, and spaghetti, food-wise at the moment," she remarked, feeling a little embarrassed about the lack of selection in her cupboards.

Although she didn't often eat it, she usually kept spaghetti on hand in case any company stopped by. Not that that happened frequently, but spaghetti took years to expire, and it was a sure way to cook for a crowd in a short amount of time while retaining some small amount of culinary dignity. "Spaghetti seemed the best option of the three," she laughed nervously.

William listened with interest to what Lizzy said, while he watched her busily prepare the meal. "Diet food?" he inquired with a puzzled look.

"Yeah," Elizabeth threw a glance over her shoulder while she stirred the sauce. "You know," she shrugged, "low-fat food for when you're trying to diet to lose weight or maintain your figure."

"Why would you need to do that?" William asked with sincere curiosity in his voice.

"It's what most women do. We have to constantly chase that elusive, perfect size two, you know. And at almost a size eight, I've definitely got a way to go," Elizabeth testily finished, tapping the spoon on the rim of the saucepan with more force than necessary. Grabbing the spaghetti fork, she alternately lifted and stirred the noodles in the pot, attempting to prevent them from sticking together. "Besides, it's not like women from 1905," she paused to look over her shoulder at the tall, unbelievably handsome man in the old-fashioned suit who was leaning against her kitchen wall, "if that's _really_ where you're from," she added, returning her attention to the noodles. "Anyway, it's not like they didn't try to make their bodies look smaller and more conforming to what was deemed 'socially acceptable' by stuffing themselves into corsets." With the last word, she threw a smug look at William, who appeared very uncomfortable as he ran a finger along the inside of his collar as if it was too tight. He averted his eyes and his cheeks turned a decidedly red color. Elizabeth turned to fully face him, and rested her hands on her hips, tilting her head to one side. "Oh, what? What are you turning all red about?"

William frowned in embarrassment. "It is hardly seemly to refer to articles of women's undergarments in conversation, madam."

A corner of his mouth twitched, though Elizabeth could tell he was doing everything in his power to prevent it from doing so. Finding his reproving words hilarious for some reason, she burst into laughter. "You just said seemly, undergarments, and madam all in one sentence!" Finally regaining some control, she looked back up at William, who now wore an amused smile. "Okay, sorry. But that was quite funny. At least I thought so," Elizabeth finished. She smoothed her hair back from her face and turned back to the stove. "Welcome to the twenty-first century, where nothing and I mean virtually nothing is taboo. Anyway, I was just trying to prove a point. Obsessive dieting and exercise are our modern-day corsets."

William released a long breath, thankful that the awkwardness of that conversation was behind them. Corsets indeed! Apparently, as Lizzy said, nothing was taboo, even for a man and a woman to discuss - well, he would think no more on it. Instead, he watched her prepare dinner, his mind wandering back over the events of the day. His eyes followed the motion of her hand as she brought it to rest on her hip, accentuating the curve of her hip and slim waist as she studiously stirred the contents of the pot on the stove.

He didn't understand the need for her to 'diet', any more than he understood the need for the corsets of his time. In all honesty, his favorite clothing of Lizzy's had been her uncorseted, lacy tea gowns, which, in his opinion, had shown her figure to its best advantage. He had loved wrapping his hands around her waist, feeling her soft curves without the rigid stays barring his way. And, if it were possible, her slightly fuller figure now was even more beautiful – and tempting - than it had been. He would not change a thing about her. Diet be damned.

Without thought, William crossed the room to stand behind her and brought his hands to rest on the smooth curve of her waist.

Elizabeth jumped in startled surprise.

He lowered his hands to his sides as she turned to face him with wide eyes. William raised his hands to her waist once more and looked deeply into the eyes of the woman he loved more than life itself and whispered, "I wouldn't change a thing, Lizzy. I love you just the way you are. And you are absolutely beautiful."

Elizabeth listened to William's words with a racing heart. The feeling of his big hands curved around her waist, and the proximity of his large body, threatened to steal her breath. His eyes held hers, refusing to allow her to look away. They seemed to convey the message that the words he spoke were ones that he needed her to hear, understand and take to heart.

Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak, but her throat felt paralyzed like she'd swallowed Novocain. She finally managed a nod. The sharp hissing sound of boiling water hitting the stovetop, recalled her attention to the pot of noodles. "Oh, crap!" She quickly spun out of William's grasp and moved to turn down the heat, in more ways than one, and stirred the spaghetti, carefully toweling up the watery mess as she did so.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" William asked, his voice low.

"No. No, I'm good," Elizabeth replied as she carefully carried the spaghetti pot to the sink where she dumped the contents into a strainer. "Thanks, though," she added over her shoulder.

William moved away, giving her space to work. He studied the room in which he stood. Nothing in the modern kitchen looked familiar. His eyes fell upon a silver box with a door above the stove. "What is this?" he asked, tapping the side of the metal contraption.

Elizabeth looked up from rinsing the noodles and told him, "It's a microwave. It uses a form of radiation, which I can't really explain to quickly cook food. I don't use it much. I usually just use the stove and oven for everything. It is nice when I'm running late for work, though. I can pop a mug of water in for a minute to heat for tea."

William moved to the fridge and opened the door. "I assume this is the icebox," he said as he peered inside and felt a blast of cold air hit him.

"Yes. Well, of sorts. Except it's cooled by a condenser and powered by electricity. I don't know how exactly, so please, don't ask," she laughed. "The smaller door above the one you have open is the freezer portion of the refrigerator. It keeps things frozen."

William promptly opened the smaller door, surprised to see that indeed, its contents, including a large, white box filled with tiny pieces of ice, were frozen. "Amazing," he marveled.

"Ha! Well, I suppose, maybe. I guess I never really think about it much unless the power goes out in a storm. Then I appreciate it more than ever when it's up and running again," Elizabeth replied with a grin. "Okay, supper's ready!" She opened a cupboard door and handed William a dish. She scooped up a portion of noodles and plopped it onto his plate, followed by a ladle of spaghetti sauce. "What would you like to drink? I have water, iced tea or diet soda."

"What are you having?" William inquired.

"Diet soda," Elizabeth replied with a raised brow.

"Then I will have the same, please."

"Alrighty." She removed two cans of soda from the fridge and shut the door with her hip while she grabbed two forks from the neighboring drawer. She handed him a can and a fork and led the way to the dining room. "There's no seating arrangement, so sit wherever you'd like."

William eyed the long table, choosing his accustomed spot in the dining room – albeit, in another lifetime - at the head of the table. Lizzy took a seat at the middle of the table to his right, leaving an empty chair between them. He watched as she lifted the tab on the top of her beverage can and used it as a lever to punch a hole into the top to open it. He did the same and lifted it to take a drink. He gasped and coughed as the foul-tasting liquid seared his throat.

Elizabeth glanced at him with wide eyes. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"What the deuce is this?" he asked, eying the can as if it contained poison.

She arched an eyebrow. "It's diet soda." Elizabeth picked up her own can and took a long drink from it. "It's good," she shrugged.

William stared at her, his face unreadable, his mouth pressed into a straight line.

Elizabeth set her can down on the tabletop. "You know I'm just going to go get you some iced tea. Is that okay? I'm really sorry. I honestly didn't know that you would hate it that much." She felt guilty for finding the situation humorous.

"Yes, please." He smiled slightly, feeling awful for indirectly insulting her.

Elizabeth reappeared shortly with a glass of what she called iced tea. He took a tentative sip. It tasted better than the previous drink, at least. "Thank you," William murmured with downcast eyes, still mentally berating himself for complaining.

They ate in silence, the only sound the occasional scraping of forks against their plates and intermittent sighs from Harold, who slept under the dining room table.

"How long have you had your dog?" William asked, breaking the silence as he glanced at Harold who had, at that moment, decided to emerge from his hiding place.

"Four years," Elizabeth replied with a sigh. "His name is Harold. He's a pretty cool guy. Keeps me company, watches over the place." She shrugged her shoulders and placed her fork on her partially-eaten plate of food before pushing it away.

William frowned as he observed how little of the food she had eaten.

"So, did you ever have a dog here?" she asked, placing her elbow on the tabletop and propping her hand under her chin.

"Me? No. No, Mrs. Reynolds would have had a stroke, though I'd have liked to," William answered.

"Mrs. Reynolds?" Elizabeth questioned, her brows knitting in puzzlement.

"Yes, Mrs. Reynolds is, was, I suppose, my housekeeper." William slowly twirled the last of his spaghetti around his fork, mentally pushing away the sudden realization that everyone he had known was no longer alive. He had to stop that line of thought before it overwhelmed him. "She was terrified of dogs," he finished quietly.

"Oh. I see," Elizabeth whispered. She studied William's face as he spoke and when she saw the sadness steal over his dark-lashed eyes, she sensed that he needed a moment alone. She stood and silently collected the plates, taking them into the kitchen. After the initial clatter of putting the dishes in the sink, she paused to listen before rinsing them and placing them in the dishwasher. She heard only silence from the direction of the dining room.

Her thoughts tumbled over each other in her mind. She struggled to fight the feeling of safety, comfort, and familiarity that she had begun to feel in William's presence. Not to mention that he claimed that he loved her. Well, not her exactly but the person he thought her to be. His dead fiancée. Elizabeth sighed heavily. She had always struggled with the concept of love, only having felt that emotion for her immediate family, but that was a different kind of love entirely from that which she felt welling up in her heart for William, even now. After all, how could one possibly love a stranger?

Odder still was the fact that she felt as if she knew him; as if she had been held in that unbelievably warm and strong embrace a hundred times before. Elizabeth scoffed. How cliché and stupid did that sound? _Ugh._ She needed to scrub something.

She turned on the water, grabbed the pots from the stove and vigorously set to scrubbing them. That task finished, she put them in the dishwasher and dumped the spaghetti and sauce into a large zip-lock bag which she placed in the fridge before wiping down the stove and countertops. When the kitchen was clean, she headed back into the dining room where William sat, staring at the mahogany table top.

"William? Are you okay?" Elizabeth tentatively asked.

William looked up from the table to meet her eyes. His were awash with sadness. "Yes. Speaking of Mrs. Reynolds, however, brought me to the realization that everyone I know – knew - is dead, have been dead for more than half a century. I cannot even begin to fathom it. My father, my friends..."

Elizabeth took a seat in the chair next to his. She leaned forward and put her hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him in some small way. Her mind was too full of this impossible situation at the moment to even try to comprehend what William must be feeling. It was then that she realized that she believed him. His grief touched her heart, igniting yet another spark of recognition for a kindred soul. She trusted him and felt that he was telling the impossible truth. She could see it in the stunned shock of the realization of losing one's whole family, plainly written on his face. "William," she whispered, "are you sure you're okay?"

William ran his hands over his face before gripping hers which still rested on his shoulder. "I will be fine. I suffered the greatest loss of my life when I lost you, Lizzy. But you are here, and by some miracle by my side once again. I know that it will be difficult, but that I can face this," he swallowed visibly, "find my way through this with you."

"William," Elizabeth began, "I-I, I believe you."

William raised his eyes to stare intently into hers. When he opened his mouth to speak, Lizzy held up the hand he wasn't holding to halt him.

"Just a sec. Just let me finish. I don't know how or why, but I believe that you are telling me the truth about where you're from. I just want you to know that I trust you, although I can't explain why, because I don't even fully understand it myself, and that's a big thing for me. Being around you feels almost," Elizabeth paused, struggling for words, "familiar, and I don't understand how that's possible, but I just want you to know that you can trust me, too. And that I'll do whatever I can to help you out, whether that be food, clothes or a place to stay, my friendship, whatever I can do."

William's hopeful expression morphed into one of frustration as Lizzy spoke. He stood and ran a hand through his hair. She'd do whatever she could to help _him_? She had all but implied that she'd take care of him as if he were a helpless child needing her attention. William had never been helpless in his life. He had always been smart, strong, and capable. He didn't want her to feel _that_ way about him. He wanted to be the one to take care of _her_ , to help _her_ , to provide for _her_ and protect _her_ , as it should be. It went against the grain and humiliated him to have it otherwise. He felt that it undermined his role as a man and capable provider to allow her to take care of him. In his own time, his wealth, his mind and his strong hands would have amply provided for himself and Lizzy for many lifetimes. Being a banker, he did not trust the precariousness of the stock markets and the uninsured sums kept in bank accounts. Of course, there were many in his profession who thought his concerns foolish and unfounded, but his father had stressed the importance of personal financial management and not putting all your eggs in one basket, so to speak. It was a lesson that had been hard-learned for his family after his grandfather had lost nearly everything in the financial crash of 1857. Unsure as William was of his future at the time, he had come west with his inheritance from his mother and the returns he had received from his investments on it up to that point, in the form of gold certificates and ready cash. Up until a year before, he had been waiting to invest what he had until his bank was well established and he and Lizzy married. After Lizzy was gone, he had been too depressed to worry over planning for his future, let alone future generations which he knew would not exist without her. The money had remained in the safe he had built for it, soundly encased and well hidden in a knee wall of the attic. The attic! Was it possible? Could it possibly have remained untouched all this time?

Elizabeth held her breath as she watched myriad emotions play over William's face. Hope, frustration, anger, deep contemplation, and hope again.

"Lizzy," he began, putting a hand to his mouth. "I am grateful to have your trust. I know how difficult a gift that is for you to bestow. I will, however, not be a burden to you. I do not wish for you to assist me in a financial or material sense. I wish to provide for you, to care for you. That is my duty, as a man and as your-" William stopped abruptly and stared at Lizzy with an indecipherable expression, his blue eyes burning into hers. "And," he continued in a softer voice, "I will do whatever I can to make sure you are safe and taken care of." He walked the few steps to where she sat at the table, looking up at him, legs folded beneath her on the chair. He gently placed his hands on both sides of her face and whispered, "I promise." William straightened, lowering his hands to his sides. "At the present moment, however, would you mind accompanying me to the attic?" At Lizzy's wide-eyed, confused look, he smiled, bringing his hands up, palms facing down in a calming gesture and chuckled. "I believe something of mine may be up there that I should very much like to see, if it has not been moved or meddled with that is, which I fear may be likely, after all."

Elizabeth eyed him speculatively. She'd gone through every corner of the massive third floor with the soaring ceilings which served as an attic when she moved in, and other than a few pieces of old furniture, there was really nothing up there that she had seen. "Okay…but I'm forewarning you, there's not much up there, so don't get your hopes up about finding whatever it is you're going to look for. And just for the record, it is not your duty to provide for me." However wonderful being cared for by such a man sounded, she had fought hard for her independence. "I've done just fine on my own since I moved out of my parents' house at the age of seventeen and worked two jobs to put myself through college, thank you very much." She looked back to William who stared at her with a deeply etched frown. She had the oddest impulse to kiss that frown, somehow knowing it would erase it and make him smile, instead, as if it were something she'd done many times before, but she shook her head instead and led the way up the staircase.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Elizabeth reached the door that led to the wide, third-floor staircase and turned the ornate, brass knob-and-tube light switch, to illuminate the stairway. She rarely had reason to go up to the third floor, but she had always loved the attic and had dreams of converting the space into a library, someday. When they reached the top of the staircase, she paused to look around at the cavernous, wide-open space with its soaring, peaked ceilings. "It's amazing up here," she whispered.

William moved to stand next to her and whispered back with amusement, "It is only storage."

"Oh, shush, you," Elizabeth grumbled, smacking him on the arm with the back of her hand. "Don't ruin the magic for me." She turned to William with a sense of determination and placed her hands on her hips. "So, what are we looking for? As I said, there's only a few pieces of furniture and some Christmas decorations up here."

"Well," William began, as he walked toward the west side of the open space. "Just a moment. I am not even sure if it is still here." Reaching the knee walls, he crouched down and began to tap with his fist against the section of wall where he knew the general location of the safe to be.

He received a hollow thunking sound on the first attempt, so he tried knocking a few inches to his right. A solid _thump_ rewarded his efforts. A wave of excitement raced through him. "It is still here! Now, to find out if what I left inside is still there as well," he exclaimed, turning toward Lizzy, who now stood a few feet behind him, intently watching his actions with her arms crossed over her chest.

Elizabeth bit her lip. "What's still there?" She hugged her arms a little tighter to her chest, not completely sure if she wanted to see what was behind the wall, after all.

"Do you have a pry bar or a hammer?" William asked.

"I do, actually. All of my grandpa's old tools are in a tote over there, by the windows." She nodded toward a large, gray tote, nestled beneath a row of three tall windows in the wall to her left. "I keep my modern ones in the garage, but I keep these up here, so they aren't damaged or lost." Elizabeth promptly made her way to the tote and fished out an old-fashioned hammer and pry bar and handed them to William. _Old-fashioned tools for an old-fashioned man,_ she mused. "Just be careful. I don't want you to damage the wall."

William gave her a withering look. "I will fix it, I promise."

Elizabeth watched as he removed his waistcoat and, using the pry bar, began to pull the wood sheeting and lathe away from the knee wall. His broad frame blocked the view of what was behind it from her eyes. Finally, after several minutes, William stood up, gesturing with a grin to a sturdy-looking metal safe, recessed into the wall.

"What?!" Elizabeth stared in shock. "How did you - wow."

"It is a safe, my dear, and as far as what it contains, well, let's see shall we?" William knelt down again and turned the rusted combination lock, silently praying it would work. After some maneuvering, he was rewarded with the final click of the tumblers in the lock, and he carefully worked the door open and peered inside. He gently lifted out a brown cardboard box. "Lizzy, come, sit here," he indicated a spot on the floor next to him and removed the lid. Several photographs and papers lay inside. He reverently picked up a photograph at the top of the small pile and handed it to Lizzy. "My mother," he said softly.

Elizabeth stared in disbelief at the photo of a beautiful, light-haired woman. Carefully turning it over, she read the inscription on the back. "Boston, Massachusetts, 1880." She looked up at William in amazement as he handed her another photograph, this one in a sturdy cardboard frame.

"My father," he said simply, studying Lizzy's face.

Elizabeth looked down at the photograph in her hand. A tall man wearing a stoic expression stood beside a chair. It was easy to see where William received his dark good looks from, and clear that this was how he would look as a middle-aged man. "William, this, this is real. I mean, you're telling the truth." She shook her head. "What I mean to say is, I know I said that I believe you and I do, but this proves that neither of us is insane!" she giggled, feeling nearer to hysteria than she had ever felt in her life. She supposed she had a good reason. After all, a time-traveling man was sitting with her on her attic floor, showing her a bunch of his family photos! Who wouldn't feel like a good old-fashioned mental breakdown right about then?

"Of course, it is, m' love," he chuckled, shaking his head. "I could not lie to you if I were to attempt it." He took the photographs that Lizzy handed back to him and placed them in the box. "Here, look at these." He held up another photograph. "This was taken shortly after I graduated from Harvard University."

Elizabeth stared at William's handsome face in the photograph. "Wow." She shook her head. "Just wow. I don't even know what to say, William!" She leaned forward and peered around him to see that he rested his hand on top of the next two photographs, effectively hiding them from her view. "What are those two under your hand?" She reached for the pictures, but he put out a hand to stop her and looked up at her with uncertainty through dark lashes.

"I am not sure if you should see those. I don't want to shock you," he murmured.

"Shock me?" she scoffed. "Oh, well now I have to see." She reached to playfully move his hand aside, but he caught her wrist and looked intently into her eyes.

William fought a short, internal battle. He wasn't sure what Lizzy's reaction would be to the photos, and, if he were being honest with himself, he was fearful of what might happen. Eventually, he gave a small, reluctant nod and handed the pictures to her, closely watching for her reaction.

Elizabeth grinned and looked down at the photos William had placed in her hands and held them side by side. As her eyes focused on the sepia print, she beheld a likeness of herself, wearing a white, lace front shirtwaist, her hair piled loosely in an elaborate style on top of her head. The second photo showed herself and William smiling brightly at each other as they stood in front of a half-constructed house – her house! In the photograph, William wore clothing similar to what he currently wore. She was dressed in a long, dark skirt and white blouse with a bolero jacket. Her hand rested atop a large, flowered hat on her head as if she were holding it on against the force of a strong wind.

Her heart hammered in her chest and a hollow, roaring sound rushed in her ears. The roaring faded, replaced by the distant sound of laughter and wind. Her vision tunneled and what seemed like a vivid memory flashed before her eyes.

 _In the sudden vision, she and William stood, before the nearly completed house, the smell of fresh cut lumber in the air, preparing to have their picture taken. A sudden, strong breeze caught her hat and she raised a hand to hold it so that it wouldn't blow off of her head. William had laughed at her surprised expression and she had smiled in return when she looked up at him and saw the happiness and love in his eyes._

Elizabeth's hands began to shake uncontrollably, and she felt herself choking as her throat constricted. Remotely aware that she had to breathe, she struggled to take a gasping breath, dropping the pictures on the floor in the process.

"Lizzy! _Lizzy_ ," William grasped her shoulders and gave her a gentle shake.

Elizabeth stared at her hands where the pictures had been a moment before with glassy eyes, wide with shock.

"LIZZY!" Worried beyond reason, William gently grabbed her chin with one hand, forcing her to look up at him. "Lizzy, listen to me. _Listen to me,_ Lizzy!" He gave her another shake.

Elizabeth heard William's deep, concerned voice as if it were coming from the end of a long tunnel. Her mind felt scrambled. She couldn't shake herself from the paralyzing grip of shock that held her captive. She felt his warm hand grasp her chin and she struggled to focus on his eyes, trying to pull herself out of the daze she was trapped in. Finally, able to speak, she struggled for composure and mentally grasped for a logical explanation. "I don't understand what's happening. How is it that I'm there?" she squeaked, gesturing toward the photographs. "Why does that woman look like me? How is it that I remember- "

"Remember? Lizzy, what do you mean you remember?" He gently shook her again.

Elizabeth shook her head, her eyes wide with confusion and disbelief. "I-I don't know. I just – it was like a memory, a flashback. Maybe I'm just going crazy. Maybe my mind is making things up to explain this whole situation, I don't know!"

William took her hands in his, squeezing them tightly. "Lizzy, tell me exactly what you think you remember."

Elizabeth blinked and hesitantly began. "I-I just remember, or saw," she paused and took a deep breath. "We, you and I, were standing in front of the house. I could smell the lumber. A man stood behind an old-fashioned looking camera on a wooden tripod, ready to take our picture. There was a strong gust of wind and my hat started to blow off and I raised my hand up to hold it on. You laughed, and I smiled at you." Elizabeth ground the heel of her palm into her forehead and squeezed her eyes shut as visions of straight jackets and padded rooms with tiny windows flashed through her mind. "I think I'm going crazy."

"Lizzy, the events you just described to me are what transpired at the moment the photo was taken. What has happened can only be described as miraculous, unbelievably so. Time travel, if you will, for myself and you, I don't know." He shrugged. "Perhaps you were reborn in this time somehow. We may never know."

"But maybe I'm just a look-a-like. You know what they say, everyone has a doppelganger somewhere. Maybe mine is just somewhere in time. That's probably the case; it's the only sensible answer."

"And time travel is sensible, my dear?" William asked, his voice gentle.

"Well, n-no," Elizabeth began. "But those pictures prove it. I mean it could be possible. Things that we can't explain happen all the time."

"You're the same, you know," he stated, an affectionate note in his voice. He smiled softly at her, stroking her cheek with the knuckle of his index finger before touching the tip of her nose. "You have the same mannerisms," he ran his thumb over her lower lip, which she held trapped between her teeth.

Elizabeth felt her lips part in response to his electric touch. She raised her chin to break the contact.

William smiled. "You always try to explain things from a logical point of view and cover difficult situations with laughter and humor. You are and have always been my grounding force. And I have loved you for that."

Elizabeth shook her head, trying to dismiss the inexplicable thoughts that raced through her mind. Rather than drive herself insane in a fruitless search for an answer that she knew would be impossible to find at the immediate moment, she took the best route she could think of to get her mind off the topic and William's attention off of her; she changed the subject. She cleared her throat and her voice shook as she nodded toward the safe and said, "Well, what else do you have in there? A map to the lost empire of Atlantis while we're on the topic of the unfathomable?"

William rolled his eyes good-naturedly before he turned back to the safe and pulled a large metal box from inside.

When William turned away from her, Elizabeth sighed with relief and pushed all thoughts of the mystery the photos presented to the back of her mind.

William's attention was fully focused on the metal box he held as he used the hammer to break the brittle lock and pry the box open. "Unbelievable. I cannot believe that it is still here."

"What's still there?" Elizabeth asked, moving next to him to peer over his shoulder. She gasped and covered her mouth. "Oh my gosh!" Inside the box lay a dozen or more tall stacks of cash and what appeared to be gold certificates. From the turn of the previous century. In mint condition.

"I do not know if they are even worth face value, but it is something for me to start on at least," William softly whispered. He heard Lizzy laugh. "What?" he asked, turning to face her.

"Oh, no William," she replied, with a quiet laugh. She smiled when she glanced up and saw his worried expression. Eager to hear his reaction to what she had to say, she began, "Sorry to disappoint you, but these are definitely not worth face value." She watched his face fall in disappointment. Feeling guilty for toying with him, she put one hand on his shoulder and with her other hand, pointed to a gold certificate on the top of one of the stacks. "Definitely not worth face value. For example, these gold certificates are worth anywhere from a few hundred to tens of thousands of dollars each." At his puzzled look, she continued, "Coin collecting was one of my dad's hobbies and since I was interested in it as a teenager, I did research with him. They stopped issuing these in 1933, and it was actually illegal to possess them until 1964 when the government allowed them to legally be in personal possession again after they became a sought-after collector's item." She moved her finger to a twenty-dollar bill on top of another stack. "This twenty-dollar bill alone is worth anywhere from a hundred dollars to upwards of twenty thousand dollars, depending upon where and when it was printed."

William removed the stack from beneath her finger and gently flipped through the pile, revealing larger bills, and placing it back in the box, did the same with the stack of gold certificates.

Elizabeth gasped. "William, you may have millions of dollars worth of collector's items here," she exclaimed in amazement, carefully lifting what appeared to be an uncirculated stack of cash and gold certificates.

William laughed. "To think! Currency which was issued no more than five years ago to me is a collector's item. There are two-hundred thousand dollars in currency and half that amount in gold certificates. Even as a banker and investor, I have always been cautious. My grandfather nearly lost everything in the panic of 1857. I had a feeling that the good times could not last, so I withdrew all before moving west and had it transported under the highest protection available. I wanted direct management of it when I saw fit to invest once more, but I never felt it was the right time."

A memory from her college accounting class popped into Elizabeth's mind. "It's a good thing you didn't. You're right, it didn't last. The U.S. saw another financial crisis in 1907. It was known as the Bankers Panic, or, better known as the Knickerbocker Crisis. It eventually led to the creation of the Federal Reserve System, but it took a while – several years, I think." She turned her gaze back to William, who regarded her with a thoughtful expression. "Huh, and I never thought I'd be able to apply the history portion of that class to real life. Who knew?" she grinned.

William blinked and shook his head. _She's as brilliant as ever,_ he thought. "You amaze me," he whispered, taking her hand in his.

She took umbrage at his comment. "Why? Because I'm a woman who attended college? You probably think women belong in the kitchen, don't you?" She knew there had to be a fatal flaw in his personality, and she thought she may have just stumbled upon it.

"No, no of course not!" William exclaimed. "You are brilliant. In fact, you've often caught me off guard with your insights; that is one of the reasons why I love talking with you. You are a worthy opponent when it comes to a debate, madam, and I've lost many an argument to you. I apologize if I have offended you. It was unintentionally done."

Feeling a bit smug, Elizabeth smiled and tilted her head back with a feigned air of superiority. "Well, then, in that case, I forgive you."

William brushed a finger against her cheek, drawing her attention back to him. "I meant what I said, Lizzy. I promise that I will take care of you for as long as I am able and will provide amply for you after I am gone, just as I promised. I intend to keep my promises to you. Those I made in the past, even though you may not remember them, as well as the ones I make now. I swear it."

His touch and words caused her heart to pound uncomfortably and Elizabeth abruptly pulled her hands away and stood. "I don't want you to take care of me or provide for me! That's not your job, or anyone else's. I _can_ and _will_ take care of myself. It's what I'm used to doing." Crossing her arms over her chest, she began to pace, back and forth, across the attic floor. "I know you think you need to do all this because you're under the impression that I'm _your fiancee_ , who's somehow come back to life, but I still don't understand how that's possible. That's _your_ money, William, and I wouldn't feel comfortable taking any part of it away from you. And please, don't say that you'll keep every promise - no one is capable of that, _no one,_ \- and I don't expect anyone _to_ be. I've learned that the only person I can rely on is myself. I'm afraid to rely on anyone else." Elizabeth clapped a hand over her mouth. She couldn't believe she just admitted to such a deep-seated fear.

 _Fabulous!_ she thought. Now, because of her careless words, the most handsome and nicest guy she'd met in a long time – possibly ever – most likely thought she was a pathetic coward. A new fear crept in as the rest of his words registered. She whirled around to face him again. "And what do you mean, you'll provide for me when you're gone? Where do you plan on going, William?" She felt a crushing sense of loss that she didn't understand at the thought of him leaving. After all, she wondered, how could she possibly miss someone she had just met? That frightened her more than anything.

William rose from the floor to stand in front of her. "Lizzy."

She stared at the floor, unable to meet his eyes.

He gently grasped her shoulders and rubbed the bare skin of her arms that wasn't covered by the short sleeves of her shirt with his fingertips, trying his hardest not to think about how many times he'd dreamed of doing just that – touching her soft skin, uncovered by clothing. "Lizzy," he repeated.

Elizabeth looked up and met his gentle blue eyes with her own.

"I do not plan on going anywhere. I want nothing more than to build a life here, with you, but everyone leaves this world at some point, and I can only hope that it is I who leaves it behind before you. I do not think I could bear to lose you again." He cautiously raised one hand to lightly caress her cheek. "I know that much has happened today, and there is much to think on. I understand that you have no reason to trust me or who I say I am, but miraculously you have told me that you do. I also know that I should not ask any more of you, but I feel I must; it would be dishonest of me not to do so. Please give me a chance. Let me be your friend, though I would love to be infinitely more than that to you. I will be honest with you, I wish for your love and to love you in return. I have never stopped loving you. I understand that this will take time, and I can and will wait for you because I know that you are worth the wait, that _we_ are worth the wait. You are infinitely more precious than anything else this world could ever offer. Please." William watched as her expression changed to one of anger and doubt.

Elizabeth stepped away and crossed her arms. "How can you say that? How? You can't mean that!" She raised a hand to her forehead as she shook her head and scoffed in disbelief. Elizabeth knew she was about to fly irrationally off the handle, but she couldn't stop herself. It felt as though all the years of hurt, inadequacy, and low self-esteem were about to come pouring out of her, and she was unable to stop the torrent of words that followed. With an angry huff and an outstretched hand, she gestured toward him in all his physical perfection and impeccable morals and values. "Men like you, who are seemingly perfect in every way - looks, character, talking to me and treating me as if I am everything to you – don't exist. Or, if they do, I certainly have never met, or heard of one outside of the pages of a book! I am _not_ good enough for someone like you. I'm not good enough for you, or apparently anyone, for that matter. I'm the kind of girl that everyone eventually leaves for someone better." She angrily swiped at the tears in her eyes.

William stared at Lizzy in shock as a surge of protectiveness flared in his heart. The deep emotional scars that she obviously bore unsettled him to no end and sent a chill down his spine. He wondered what had happened to destroy her sense of self-worth so completely. At that moment, he would have cheerfully killed whoever had hurt her and made her feel unworthy. He reached out to grasp her wrist as she paced by and pulled her to him. He rested his other hand on her hip, still keeping a tight hold on her hand, and forced her to look at him. " _Can't you see yourself, Lizzy_?" he implored, his voice intense, his jaw tight. "I do not know why you think what you do, but you are wrong. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever known. When I first met you, I was captivated by your bright smile, your looks, your personality and the way you made me feel _alive_. I feel all of those things again, now more than ever. You are _alive, healthy_ and _beautiful_." When she shook her head, he assured her, "You _are_ beautiful, Lizzy. You are _perfect_ for me. Please, do not think otherwise. I am the one who should be striving to be worthy of _you_."

The sincerity of what William said showed in the intense expression in his eyes and the firm set of his jaw. Feeling humiliated for her outburst, Elizabeth swallowed back her tears. She couldn't believe she'd lost control of her emotions like that. "I'm sorry. Sorry," she whispered. She maneuvered out of the grasp of his hand on her hip, which was causing her stomach to flutter uncomfortably, and turned back toward the safe. "I'll help you put this stuff away. Sorry for dropping your pictures," she sniffed. She felt William's hand grab hers again, and she turned back to him.

He stood in the same spot she had left him in, with his hand outstretched, holding tightly to hers, his expression sober. "Lizzy," he began "I mean it. You are perfect to me."

Elizabeth gave him a small smile and squeezed his hand. "Thanks. I don't understand why, but," she paused for a moment to catch the breath that his touch threatened to steal, "thank you for saying so," she finished, more to put him off the topic than in agreement. William's answering smile, however, prompted a genuine one from her in response. "Come on, let's go clean up your stuff."

They bent down together in front of the safe, putting the papers and pictures back in their proper places. As William placed the box containing the money and gold certificates into the safe, he raised his head and asked, "Do you know of a place where I can sell these?"

"Um," Elizabeth answered "I'll call the one that my dad used to go to on Monday. It's in Omaha. You won't be able to sell all of it to them, there's no way they would have or be able to obtain the money to purchase them all. I'll call tomorrow to let them know what you have and see what their maximum payout is. I'll call some other shops, too. Even if you only sell half of one of those stacks, you'd be set." William smiled at her, and the gesture made her feel warm and happy. "There's always eBay, too."

William's forehead wrinkled in confusion. "What on earth is an e-bay?"

She gave a short laugh and tilted her head to one side. "Well, to explain eBay, I would first have to explain computers and then the internet and e-commerce. The best way to do that will be to just show you. You know what, let's get this stuff put away and then we'll both shower and change clothes and I'll show ya." Glancing down at her watch she said, "I didn't realize how late it's getting. It's almost nine o'clock and I'm exhausted."

Lizzy stood and William bent to close the safe, his eyes landing on a small, green velvet box inside as he did so. He quickly grabbed the box and pocketed it, before he closed the safe and leaned the piece of wood sheeting he had removed against the wall to cover it. He grabbed his waistcoat from the banister and joined Lizzy as she descended the staircase.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

A/N: There was a blizzard, so I had some extra time away from work. :). I don't envy William the uphill climb ahead of him with Lizzy. :-/. I don't like angst though, so if any arises, fear not. It will be short-lived.


	6. Chapter 6

I apologize for the delay. Complications arose, ensued, were overcome.

I meant to have this finished much earlier (i.e. last month), but alas, it's busy season at work (all three jobs) and with all of my kids (three of those, too) : ).

Buuuuut mostly because I discovered Pirates of the Caribbean…yep…I drank the Kool-Aid (the whole pitcher, really) on that one. I may have spent two solid weeks reading POTC fan fiction. *clears throat, hangs head in shame*

P.S. Chapter 18 of my other story, The Most Important Thing, is on the way, too. It's mostly roughed out and just needs a bit of polishing, so look for it in the next week or two!

 **Chapter 6**

When they reached the second-floor hallway, Elizabeth turned to William, having thought of a solution for his current clothing conundrum. Her younger brother, Michael, kept a small stash of clothing in the dresser of the spare bedroom that he used when he came to visit. The jeans and button-down shirts would undoubtedly be too small, given the difference between Michael's average body size and William's much taller and broader frame which towered closer to six and a half feet. However, gym shorts and t-shirts were kind of a one-size-fits-most option for guys, and, luckily, her brother preferred to wear loose-fitting clothing while lounging around her house. "Come on," she began, looking up into William's smiling blue eyes, "follow me and I'll get you some of my brother's clothes to sleep in and I'll show you where you can find more tomorrow if you don't want to wear the clothes you're wearing now. It'll do until we can find you some more clothing anyway. Actually," she mused aloud as she briefly surveyed his form, "if you take off the vest and leave a few shirt buttons open, I don't think that anyone would really notice. Around here, people really only wear dress clothes like that when they go to work or church, and most of the time, not even then. We're a pretty casual culture."

"Does your brother live with you, then?" William asked, relieved to think that she did not live alone, without protection or assistance of any kind, after all.

Elizabeth shook her head and turned and walked across the hall to a closed door before she turned to face him again, frowning slightly as she answered, "No, he lives in his own home in Loring, but he comes to visit on occasion and keeps some clothing here."

William followed Lizzy into the room, furnished only with a narrow bed, a nightstand and a dresser. He stood silently in the doorway, as she rummaged in one of the drawers.

"Okay!" Elizabeth exclaimed, pulling out a white t-shirt and a pair of loose-fitting, black basketball shorts. She handed them to William. "Here ya go."

William looked down with furrowed brows at the clothing she'd handed him. Surely, she didn't expect him to wear only that? They had no more substance than undergarments!

"I know," Elizabeth interrupted his thoughts. "I know what you're thinking, and yes, it's totally legit clothing. Remember what I said? We are _much_ more casual in our dress in this century. T-shirts and shorts are considered perfectly proper clothing for wear in public. I think you'll find them very comfortable," she assured him.

"I'll take your word for it," William replied doubtfully as he followed Lizzy out of the room. She paused at the hall closet to retrieve a towel before continuing on to the bathroom.

"Okay, soap and shampoo are in the shower and here's a washcloth," Elizabeth said as she pulled open a drawer and handed a washcloth to William. "The handle to turn the water on is right here," she explained, pointing to the silver handle on the shower wall. "You'll want to turn the handle so that it's just between the red and blue colors. If you want the water warmer, just turn it up to red, and if you want it cooler, turn it down to blue. Any questions?" she inquired with raised eyebrows.

William smiled tightly. "No, thank you."

"Alrighty then," Elizabeth said brightly. "I'll see ya on the other side." William gave her a puzzled look, and she chuckled. "It's just another way of saying 'I'll see you when you're done.'"

"Oh, thank you," William replied with a small shake of his head. "I am sorry. Becoming accustomed to modern vernacular will take some time, I am afraid," he smiled.

"It's all good," Elizabeth winked, as she stepped into the hallway and closed the bathroom door. As she walked down the hall to her own room, she realized that she had forgotten to tell him to lay the towel that hung over the side of the tub on the floor, so he wouldn't slip and fall on the tile when he got out of the shower. She returned to the bathroom door and paused to listen. The water wasn't running yet, and it had only been a few seconds since she had left the room - surely not enough time for him to have dispensed with his clothing. She knocked quickly and opened the door.

William heard the door creak open and he quickly grabbed the shirt he had just discarded from the countertop, holding it in his fist at his side. As he turned, he caught sight of Elizabeth in the doorway, staring at him with wide eyes, her full lips forming a small "O" shape. "Elizabeth?" he asked. "Is everything alright?"

Elizabeth blinked and nodded absently. She had opened the door to see the well-defined muscles of William's broad back flexing and knotting beautifully under lightly tanned skin as he removed his shirt and then he had turned around and rendered her speechless. She struggled to tear her eyes away from his muscular torso to focus on his eyes and the words of some sort he appeared to be speaking. Her eyes dropped to his chest again before she averted her face.

His voice broke through her daze. "Are you alright?"

"Uh-huh," she answered, biting her lip, still keeping her gaze averted.

"Did you need something then?" William asked again, raising an eyebrow as he walked toward her.

Elizabeth turned her eyes to face him again and she automatically put a hand out to stop him from coming any closer. And stop he did when her halting hand pressed against his abdomen to keep him at arm's length. His body was warm and hard. Feeling a bit overwhelmed by the contact, Elizabeth quickly withdrew her hand and forced herself to meet his eyes. He was smirking at her. She cleared her throat and forced herself to speak. "Sorry. I um, I forgot to tell you to put the towel on the floor, so you don't slip when you step out of the shower." She quickly stepped around him, walked over to the tub, snatched the towel from the side and spread it on the floor. Without looking at William, she said, "Okay then, I'll see ya. Let me know when you're done so I can take one, afterward." Elizabeth quickly left the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind her and sprinted to her room, where she crashed on her bed and began to berate herself for being such an idiot. Why had she not asked if she could come in before she'd just barged in there like a freaking bull with no regard for his privacy, she wondered. She wanted to disappear.

William closed his eyes, luxuriating in the feeling of the warm water raining down on his body and working the tension from his muscles. He reached out a big hand to touch the tiny stone tiles in varying shades of brown on the wall surrounding the tub. The stone felt cool and smooth beneath his fingertips. He turned, letting the water hit him in the face as he remembered Lizzy's facial expression when she had walked into the bathroom and found him with his shirt off. He laughed softly at the memory. He should have hurried to put his shirt back on, but in truth, he had forgotten its existence when he saw her standing there, staring at him with wide eyes. William finished his shower, turned off the water and stepped out onto the towel that she had laid on the floor for that purpose, and dried himself with the folded towel on the counter. He dubiously eyed the clothing that Lizzy had given him. Regardless of what she said, he couldn't believe that the times had changed so drastically over the course of a century for it to be acceptable for gentlemen to be seen in public in clothing that did not completely cover one's person. Then he thought of what Lizzy had worn that day. Her tight trousers and form-fitting shirt had shown off every curve of her legs, hips, waist, and chest. He shook his head. Better to end that train of thought before it took his mind to places he did not need to go at the moment. He trusted her, however, and she had assured him that this clothing was what men wore so, so be it. With a shrug and a rueful shake of his head, William pulled the garments on and gathered up his own things before exiting into the hallway. "When in Rome…" he muttered with a grimace.

Elizabeth laid across the bed, facing the open window, enjoying the feeling of the evening breeze as it cooled her still-warm face. Her chin rested on one folded arm while the other dangled off the edge of the mattress. She heard the water stop running and a few minutes later, the creak of the bathroom door as it opened. She listened attentively as William's footsteps crossed the hall to the guest room and then returned to the hallway and stopped in front of her own closed door. A light knock followed. "Come in," she sighed as she reluctantly turned her gaze from the soothing sight of the lace curtains playing in the breeze to William, who stood in her doorway, dressed in the pair of black gym shorts and white t-shirt that she had given him. Her breath caught as her eyes traveled to the tightly stretched fabric of his shirt, which accentuated the lines of his chest and torso and then to the sleeves which stopped at mid-bicep, making his already muscular arms look even larger. She wasn't sure which sight was better; that of him shirtless or dressed like this. She'd gladly take either.

William stopped in his tracks just inside the doorway when he realized that Lizzy was lying on the bed. He turned to leave, but she quickly sat up and rose to her feet. He paused with one hand on the door frame and his eyes averted and said, "Thank you for the loan of the clothing and for allowing me to bathe. I feel much better." He heard her heavy sigh and turned to face her as she approached him with a bundle of clothing tucked under one arm.

She walked past him and playfully hit his bicep with the back of her hand as she replied, "No worries. I'm going to take a quick shower." Then, gesturing toward the bookshelves in the bedroom, she added, "Grab a book and hang out in the guest room until I get out. I'll come find you when I'm done and then we'll go downstairs, and I'll tell you all about computers and eBay." She winked and walked across the hallway to the bathroom.

William stood in the doorway, speechless. No one had told him what to do since he was a child. At least not until now. He shook his head as he walked to the bookshelf to locate the book Lizzy had pointed out to him earlier that day as being one of her favorites. Locating it, he shook his head and walked to the guest room. He pulled the small velvet jewelry box from the pocket of his trousers, which were draped across the top of the dresser and sat down on the edge of the bed. He opened the lid of the small box and gazed at the gold setting that held a diamond, flanked by two deep green emeralds. Pain lanced through his heart as the memory of his proposal to Lizzy and the subsequent removal of the ring from her hand rushed back. William snapped the box shut and put it in the drawer of the nightstand, next to the bed. He relaxed back into the pillows where he made himself comfortable and began to read.

Elizabeth sat down on the floor of the tub, allowing the hot water from the shower to pummel her body, forcing her muscles to relax as she attempted to make sense of her tangled thoughts. The surreal, impossible events of the day crashed over her, followed by another wave of unfamiliar emotions. As crazy as it sounded, she could accept William's explanation of his origins, of having traveled in time. Astoundingly, there was proof enough of that between his knowledge of prior events, the hidden safe, and the photos therein. What she could not make sense of, however, were her own feelings. Before she had even awoken from her impromptu nap that afternoon, she had felt safe with William. Well, aside from the minor freak-out and small episode with the threats to disembowel him with a fire poker, but in all fairness, that rampage had only lasted a few minutes. And, for waking to the sight of a strange man touching her face, she figured she'd reacted mildly to the situation. As the evening had progressed, the feeling of safety and familiarity had only grown stronger, and when he spoke to her, she felt an undeniable tug at her heart. She didn't know if it was truly the beginnings of love for him, or if it was merely the power of suggestion; a natural reaction or feeling toward him because he had told her in so many ways that evening that he loved her and cared for her. The man had laid his soul bare to her. Elizabeth shook her head. No, that couldn't be it. After all, if any other random stranger had walked up to her and professed undying love and devotion, she'd have probably thought that they were insane. And she would have run far, far away. Screaming and throwing things - like tree branches - as she went. At least she hoped so.

She laughed at the visual and leaned her head back against the side of the tub. No. William definitely wasn't crazy, and she was fairly certain she wasn't either. And then, there was the matter of the photographs. The portrait of her and the photo of herself and William, standing in front of this very house before it was completely built flashed through her mind. She was beginning to feel that in some unfathomable way, he was correct. That or she had an identical twin in time with the same name and birthday, but then why had she had the dream? Why did she remember what happened on the day the photo was taken? Why the familiarity of his touch? And why had she known his name? Elizabeth sighed as she rose to her feet. Resting her forehead against the stone tiled shower wall, she closed her eyes and thought about the man in her guest room. If she could have dreamt up a perfect guy, he'd have been _it_. Yep, right down to those long, black lashes and dark blue eyes.

Turning the water off, Elizabeth stepped out of the shower and toweled off. She pulled on her pink cotton shorts and a ribbed white tank top that served as her pajamas and twisted her hair into a messy bun, securing it with an elastic band. She went to her room first to stow her clothes in the laundry basket and then set out in search of William.

She stopped at the guest room door and knocked lightly. When she didn't receive an answer, Elizabeth gently eased the door open and saw William sitting on the bed, his back resting against the headboard and his long legs stretched out in front of him. A book lay open across his chest as if he had fallen asleep reading. Elizabeth took a moment to study him. He was truly a handsome man. He looked strong, even in sleep. She vividly remembered thinking earlier that evening that someone his size could squash her like a bug. If she didn't feel safer than she ever had before in his presence, she'd be intimidated by him. She hated to wake him, but she really needed to talk to him about the next day, and make sure everything was okay for the night.

She walked over to the bed and carefully sat down on the edge of the mattress and placed a hand on his arm. "William," she called softly, shaking his arm a bit. There was no reply. Rolling her eyes, Elizabeth scooted closer and moved her other hand to his shoulder. "William," she said louder, shaking him once again.

William bolted upright and reflexively grabbed ahold of her arms. "Lizzy! Good grief, woman, you startled me. What's wrong?"

Elizabeth gave him a guilty look as she said, "Nothing is wrong. I'm sorry to wake you. I just need to talk to you about tomorrow before you go to sleep for the night." She looked down pointedly at William's hands which still tightly gripped her arms.

"Forgive me," he released his hold on her and lowered his eyes.

"There's nothing to forgive. Don't worry. So, anyway about tomorrow…" her voice trailed off when she noticed his startled expression and his gaze, focused on her legs. "Hey, you okay?"

William stared in disbelief as the realization of what Elizabeth was wearing dawned on him. His eyes lingered on her exposed, smooth thighs.

"Hell-ooo, William," Elizabeth called in a bemused sing-song voice as she waved her hand in front of his face.

William wrenched his eyes from the sight of her bare legs and began to raise his head to meet her eyes, but his vision was snagged once again by the garments she wore. The sleeveless white shirt - and by sleeveless, he meant sleeveless, he thought, for the straps over her shoulders were little more than strings - clung tightly to the curve of her waist and chest, leaving very little to his imagination. He tore his eyes away from her chest to meet her eyes, a somewhat scandalized expression on his face.

"What?" Elizabeth asked flatly.

"You," William began, swallowing hard "why are you not dressed, Elizabeth? Why did you come to me like this?" He moved his hands to rest on the sides of her waist and looked intently into her eyes.

Elizabeth glanced down at her clothing in confusion. "What do you mean? They're pajamas. It's what normal people wear when they sleep." When he continued to stare, understanding dawned on her, and one corner of her mouth turned up in a smirk. She raised a hand to cover her mouth as she said, "I guess things have changed a bit over the past century, huh? I'm sorry…I'll go change." Feeling slightly embarrassed, though she didn't know why, after all, she was fully and properly clothed - by twenty-first century standards at least - Elizabeth began to rise to go to her room to change, but William's hand moved to her thigh, staying her. Sitting back down, she searched his face as he moved his hand over her hip and back up to her side.

He swallowed visibly and shook his head. "It's alright. I should not have reacted that way, forgive me once again. My only excuse is that in my time, if you would have come to me in my bedroom, dressed as you are, well, it would have meant something _very_ different."

Elizabeth blinked. "A-anyway, soo…about tomorrow. It's Friday, and the news office closes at noon. In the morning, you can have a bowl of cereal for breakfast, I'll leave the boxes and a bowl out for you. The milk is in the fridge. I'll leave the toaster out, too in case you want toast as well. The operation of it is pretty self-explanatory. When I get home, we'll go to town to get you some clothes and then after we get back home, I'll give you a crash course on computers and eBay. It's a little too late for that tonight. I know it will probably raise a lot of questions for you."

William exhaled slowly and bowed his head as he began to rub small circles against her waist with his thumbs. "Very well then," he replied in a whisper. Looking up into her eyes with a mischievous smile, he said: "I look forward to spending the day with you, Miss Bennet."

Elizabeth gave a short, breathy laugh and grasped his hands with hers, pulling them away from her waist and giving them a quick squeeze before she let go and rose from the bed. "Goodnight, William," she replied in the usual teasing manner she used to dispel uncomfortable situations. "Let me know if you need anything, okay?" she said as she turned to leave. She stopped in the doorway when she heard William speak.

"Hmm. I was right," he observed with a half-smile as he crossed his arms over his broad chest.

"About what?" Elizabeth asked flatly, turning her head to look at him over her shoulder.

"I have often thought that you must have very lovely legs and I was correct," he answered with a smoldering look.

The effect was lost on Elizabeth. She had had about all she could take for one day. "Oh, for the love of all things holy," she grumbled through gritted teeth as she stomped through the doorway and down the hall to her bedroom. The echo of William's deep laughter followed her into her room. She slammed the door for good measure and grabbed the brass skeleton key off of the bookshelf. She tried to finagle the key in the ancient lock to make it work but to no avail. Of course, the stupid key wouldn't work in his stupid old lock. "What's the point," she muttered under her breath. She flung the door open and climbed into bed, pulling the covers over her head. Despite William's bold remarks, Elizabeth felt safer that night than she ever had before, and she fell into a restful sleep almost immediately.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello there! Thanks for joining me on this trip down the rabbit hole. : ). I greatly appreciate the company. For those of you who are concerned about the logistics of William establishing a legal identity in this century…fear not. I have a solution. In fact, I even made a couple of phone calls to various government agencies to inquire about a "hypothetical case for use in a story." I probably have my own satellite by now, so, if I don't post another chapter…you'll know why. Just promise me that** ya'll will **come to get me out of federal prison, okay?**

 **Anyway, check out my other two stories while you're at it (pretty please, I promise, it'll be fun!). They are The Most Important Thing (a Pride and Prejudice fiction), and What the Heart Wants (a Pirates of the Caribbean fiction).**

 **Reviews are *always* appreciated, and reading your thoughts and criticism is invaluable! Thanks for reading!**

 **Chapter 7**

Elizabeth woke the next morning to the buzz of her alarm clock. She slowly opened her eyes and glanced at the blue digital clock display. Four-thirty a.m. She sighed and flung an arm out to shut off the alarm and pulled her phone out from underneath her pillow to check the forecast, something one usually did before getting dressed for the day in the Midwest. During springtime, on the prairies, the weather could be sunny and warm one day and freezing the next. Sure enough, the day promised to be hot and sunny.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. On days like today, she, like most women, preferred shorts and a tank top or t-shirt. Remembering William's scandalized reaction to her pajamas the night before, she shook her head and got out of bed before turning on the light and grudgingly pulling on a pair of jeans and a red, ruched tank top.

She quietly tiptoed out into the hallway where she paused, her eyes riveted on the guest room doorway down the hall. Had she dreamt it all? Curiosity got the best of her and she hesitantly crept down the hallway to peek into the room. Before her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the guest room, she heard the steady breathing of someone in a deep sleep. When her vision finally adjusted, she was able to make out a large form, covered by blankets on the bed. Apparently, it hadn't been a dream and William still slept!

Elizabeth silently pulled the door shut and tiptoed to the bathroom. She turned on the light and moved to stand in front of the mirror. Her reflection gazed back, wide-eyed with excitement and disbelief. He was real – it hadn't been a dream! Shaking her head and smiling at the impossibility the situation, she quickly brushed her hair before weaving it into a loose side braid. She hurriedly applied mascara to her eyelashes before she turned off the light and quietly descended the stairs.

It was still dark outside in the pre-dawn hour, but Elizabeth still gazed in wonder at the darkened, beveled glass windows on the first floor. William's words about installing them just for her – well, for _his_ Elizabeth – so that she could see the rainbows she loved each morning, made their significance all the more endearing to her. She headed for the kitchen and placed a bowl and several boxes of cereal on the counter for him to choose from. Then, she pulled a notebook and pen from a drawer and quickly wrote a note.

 _William,_

 _Please help yourself to cereal and fruit. The milk is in the_ _fridge_ _. I will be back from work around noon._

– _Elizabeth._

She finished writing the short missive and laid it beside the bowl on the counter.

On her way out the door, Elizabeth listened with an attentive ear to see if there was any sound from upstairs that would indicate whether or not William was awake. She didn't hear anything, so she left the house to walk the few short blocks to the newspaper office. It was still a little early to go to work, but she had a goal in mind that morning. She was determined to search the newspaper archives for several things. Namely, the building of the bank William claimed to have owned, Elizabeth's obituary, and any news of William's disappearance in 1905.

Elizabeth unlocked the door to the newspaper office, placed her purse on her desk and quickly headed for the archive room. She flipped the light switch, illuminating the square room with its concrete floor, and walls, lined with bookshelves. Her flip-flops made a quiet clapping sound on the concrete as she walked around the perimeter of the room, searching the dimly lit shelves which held the massive volumes containing each year's newspapers since the paper's beginning in 1870.

Locating the volume labeled 1901, Elizabeth lifted the massive, dusty, olive green book from the shelf and placed it on the large wooden table in the center of the room. She turned back to the shelves and hoisted down the 1904 and 1905 volumes as well and placed them on the table next to the other one. She gingerly opened the 1901 book. The large pages were yellowed and brittle with age and a few had begun to crumble around the edges. She carefully flipped to the back of the volume and located the traditional "Year in Review" edition. She ran her finger down the lines of fading, uneven print that denoted significant events that had taken place in the town, state and country over the course of the year.

It was there, in the fifth column, near the center of the page.

" _November 1901: W. Darcy, formerly of Boston, Mass. builds and opens First National Bank of South Dakota in Brighton."_

Elizabeth carefully turned the pages back to the November issues. She located the article in the November 13 edition of the newspaper. There was no picture – photojournalism hadn't come into wide use until after World War One. Elizabeth shook her head in disbelief as she read the short article.

" _The First National Bank of South Dakota opened its doors Monday morning at nine o'clock. The bank is owned and operated by Mr. W. Darcy, formerly of Boston, Mass."_

Elizabeth carefully lifted the volume from the table and gently laid it on top of the large photocopier. She gingerly flipped it over and carefully laid the page containing the article on the copier's glass surface while supporting the giant book with her other arm and hit the green copy button. She laid the volume back on the table and reached for the 1904 tome to find Elizabeth's obituary.

She knew exactly where to look. Opening the dusty volume, Elizabeth carefully turned to the May 18, 1904 edition. There, in the center of the "notices" column on the front page, was Elizabeth's name…her name. She grasped the edge of the table as a wave of dizziness overtook her. The whole situation was beyond surreal. Elizabeth shook her head and forced herself to read the words on the page in front of her.

" _Elizabeth R. Bennet died near Brighton Sunday, May 15, 1904, of injuries sustained in a tornado. Age 23 years, 10 months, 14 days._

 _The funeral service was held at the Methodist Church Tuesday, at two o'clock in the afternoon. The Rev. Tucker preached a touching service over the remains of the beloved daughter._

 _E.R. Bennet was born in Brighton on July 1, 1880, to Thomas and Francine Bennet. Miss Bennet was engaged to be married to Mr. W. Darcy of Brighton. The couple had planned to exchange vows in a June 11 ceremony."_

Tears blurred Elizabeth's vision as pain ripped through her heart at the thought of losing William. She raised a hand to her chest in an attempt to stem the pain. How hard it must have been for her doppelganger in time to leave him behind! She quickly wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and continued reading.

" _Our deepest sympathies are extended to Elizabeth's family and fiancé."_

That was it. The end of a life expressed in a few lines of newsprint. Elizabeth lifted the volume, laid it on the copier and pressed the copy button once again. She carefully closed the book and returned it and the 1901 edition to the shelves. Pushing aside the inexplicable grief that threatened to overwhelm her, she opened the final volume to May 17, 1905, the edition that would have been published two days after William disappeared. She found nothing. She turned to the next week, May 24. There, on page two was a small article between two advertisements for DeWitt's Pharmacy and Elwood's Mercantile; " _Search continues for bank president."_ Elizabeth scanned the article.

" _The search continues for First National Bank of South Dakota president, William Darcy. Mr. Darcy left work at noon on May 15 and did not return. When interviewed by the Brighton Weekly, his housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds, claimed that Darcy had gone for a walk and never returned. The disappearance is still under investigation. Foul play is not suspected."_

Elizabeth gasped and looked up. William had disappeared! She quickly made a copy of the article and turned to the next edition. May 31, 1905. The article was on the front page this time.

" _Search ends for missing Brighton resident,"_ the headline read. " _The search has ended for Mr. W. Darcy of Brighton. Mr. Darcy's family in Boston, Mass. have been contacted by local and state authorities, but no contact had been made to the family by Darcy. A lack of further clues as to Darcy's whereabouts is forcing authorities to discontinue the search."_

Elizabeth's hands gripped the edge of the table as her legs went numb beneath her and she collapsed into a nearby wooden chair. Her eyes refused to focus on anything except the last line of the paragraph, " _A lack of further clues as to Darcy's whereabouts is forcing authorities to discontinue the search."_

He had disappeared without a trace. On the very afternoon, he had gone to visit Elizabeth's grave – on the very afternoon he said he had arrived here! Elizabeth swallowed hard and carefully rose from the chair on unsteady legs. She lifted the book, laid it on the copier and hit the copy button one last time.

She returned the volume to the shelf where she had found it and grabbed the stack of photocopies from the printer tray. She turned off the light as she exited the room and slowly walked to the front office, where she collapsed in her chair behind her large, wooden desk. The sound of keys in the lock of the office door alerted her to the time. She was surprised to realize that an hour and a half had passed since she had begun her search for information in the archives. Elizabeth picked up the photocopies once more and stared at them in disbelief.

Whoever was at the door finally realized that it was unlocked, and the bell chimed as they pushed the heavy plate glass door open. Elizabeth quickly folded the papers and slipped them into her purse as Connor, the production manager and IT tech appeared in the doorway. He looked at her in surprise.

"Elizabeth!" Connor exclaimed with a puzzled smile. "You're here early."

Elizabeth smiled back and slumped in her chair. "Hey, Connor. How's it going?"

"Great!" Connor smiled in return, clapping his hands together.

Elizabeth sighed. Connor, a trustworthy friend to all who knew him, and a major computer guru was always cheerful. He even dressed his medium-height frame cheerfully from the tips of his spiked black hair and stylish dark-rimmed glasses to his usual style of brightly-colored, button-down shirt and matching Converse All-Stars. No one could be grumpy for long around Connor. Elizabeth shook her head.

"You look tired, girl. Can I get you some coffee?" he asked, genuine concern showing in his expression.

"That would be wonderful. Thank you times a thousand," Elizabeth smiled.

Connor disappeared through the news office door and headed for the small kitchenette in back. Elizabeth swiveled in her chair to face the computer. She swiped the mouse across the mousepad on her desk several times and waited for the screen display to appear. Connor breezed back into the front office, coffee cup in hand. He set the cup in front of her on the desk, gave her a wink and headed back through the door to his own office. "Thank you, Connor!" Elizabeth called after him.

Without turning around, he flashed a "live long and prosper" sign over his shoulder with one hand and replied, "Not a problem!"

Elizabeth picked up the mug and took a fortifying sip as the front door opened again and more of her co-workers filed in, talking and laughing. Last to make an appearance was the editor, Herb. Herb, an aging, but still-fit, white-haired man in his mid-seventies, was sharp as a tack and as upbeat and energetic as Connor. If Herb had his way, he wouldn't retire for another twenty years. He stepped with energy through the door and walked around to his desk, which faced Elizabeth's. "Good morning, Herb," Elizabeth greeted.

"Hullo, Elizabeth," Herb returned her greeting with a smile as he sat down at his computer and began to check his email.

Technology did not scare the man like it did so many other elderly and middle-aged people. Herb kept up with every new piece of technology on the market and snatched up gadgets as soon as they became available "for research," he always claimed, but Elizabeth knew better. When the newest iPhone came out, Herb had been camped out in line at the Apple Store in Sioux Falls, along with the techie and hipster crowds for eight hours before the store opened, to be one of the first to get his hands on one. Elizabeth giggled at the memory.

Herb looked over the top of his computer monitor and raised a white eyebrow in inquiry. "Care to share what has you so amused?" he asked.

"Nope," Elizabeth replied with a smirk as she hunkered down in her chair and opened her email to check for any new public notices.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

William opened his eyes and stretched languorously in his bed, thoroughly relaxed as the warm morning sunlight from the open window poured into his bedroom. He paused mid-stretch. There was something strange about the angle of the light shining through the window. As he looked over toward the wall, he realized that he was not in his own room at all. He bolted upright in bed as the confusion cleared and memories of the day before filled his mind. _Elizabeth!_ William quickly surveyed the room in which he found himself. It had all been real! He hadn't dreamt it! He truly had traveled to the future somehow and Elizabeth – his Lizzy - was alive and well.

With that thought, William quickly rose from the bed and rushed out of the room and down the hall to the closed door of what had been his room and was now Lizzy's. He hesitated a moment before knocking softly on the heavy wooden door. When there was no answer, he knocked again, harder this time, and softly called Lizzy's name. His heart raced slightly in awe as he spoke her name aloud.

When he still didn't receive an answer, William began to grow concerned. He hesitantly opened the bedroom door. The room was empty, the bed neatly made. He turned and rushed downstairs. When he reached the foyer and saw the rainbows that reflected through the beveled glass windows and danced across the walls and wood floor, he smiled. Lizzy did have her rainbows after all, just as he had intended. He searched the dining room and parlor as well, but there was still no sign of her. When he entered the kitchen, a white piece of paper on the counter caught his eye. He picked up the note with Lizzy's familiar handwriting, handwriting that he hadn't seen in a year. After reading it, William sighed with relief. She was at work, that was all. He picked up one of the cereal boxes labeled " _Cheerios_ " and poured some in a bowl, along with milk from the "fridge."

He sat down at the small kitchen table to eat and mentally recalled the events of the night before. He was almost sure that Lizzy had remembered something when she'd seen the photos of herself in the attic. He hoped that with time, she would remember more. He wondered at the mystery surrounding their situation. How had Lizzy come to be here? That she was indeed _his_ Lizzy _,_ he had no doubt. She had known him, had recognized him upon first awakening and after she had held the photograph of the two of them, she had described to him in perfect detail the events that had occurred when it had been taken.

His thoughts drifted to the small changes that he had noticed. Not just in the house, but in Lizzy as well. The idea of her working to support herself bothered William greatly. Why were her parents or her brother, for that matter, not supporting her? In his opinion, no young woman should have that responsibility thrust upon her shoulders. She was made to be cared for and loved.

William's frown deepened as he recalled her seemingly shattered sense of self-worth. It galled him to see her in that frame of mind. His lips thinned into a hard line and he vowed to himself that he would do everything in his power to show her just how valuable, beautiful and desired she truly was, even if it took him a lifetime to do so.

A high-pitched beeping sound and the smell of freshly brewed coffee pulled him from his dark thoughts. Glancing toward the source of the noise on the countertop, he saw a rectangular, silver object with a clear glass pot, filled with steaming brown liquid, nestled in the center. Smiling in appreciation, he opened the cupboards to search for a teacup in which to pour the coffee. All he was able to find were ceramic mugs, similar to his shaving mug. Puzzled, but resigned, William poured the fragrant, steaming coffee into one of the unconventional vessels.

He carried his mug of coffee back to the table and sat down. As he drank, he glanced around the room, noting small things that he had missed the night before. A small piece of paint on the corner of the wall by the back door of the kitchen had chipped off, and the once-shining crown molding and baseboard throughout the kitchen and the rest of the house, although still intact, had lost its sheen, but would look new again with some light refinishing work. William finished his breakfast and decided that he would spend the morning going through the house to compile a list of repairs that needed to be made.

After putting his empty bowl in the sink and setting his mug on the counter, he searched through the drawers until he located paper and a pencil. He decided to start from the bottom of the house and work his way to the top and then outside. He headed down the basement staircase to begin his task.

Two hours later, he was dusty and hot. The house, although in excellent repair for its age he supposed, needed a few cosmetic touch-ups, including the woodwork and some areas of paint. The ceiling plaster on the upstairs landing had begun to crack and would need to be repaired. Several trees on the property were in need of trimming, the lilac hedge needed pruning, and a piece of the siding on the outbuilding needed fixing.

He shook his head as he recalled the scene he had encountered outdoors. His property, he noticed, had apparently been divided up into several parcels over the years. He had known that the carriage house was gone, but the full realization of the extent of the changes that had occurred had hit him with full force that morning. The amount of noise was unbelievable, as well. He knew that Brighton was still a relatively small town, but the cacophony was ceaseless. The roar of the engines of the vehicles that drove by – especially those of the motorbikes - as well as the roar of what he assumed to be mowing machines that he had seen a few of Lizzy's neighbors pushing across their lawns, was unbelievable.

William deposited his list on the dresser in the room he had slept in and pulled open one of the drawers that Lizzy had indicated held more clothing. He withdrew a gray, short-sleeved shirt and another pair of black gym shorts, as she had called them, shaking his head as he did so. He still could not comprehend the fact that the scantiness of the clothing was considered entirely proper, but he had seen people out walking and working in their yards in similar attire. Thoughts of his clothing shifted to thoughts of Lizzy's clothing as he recalled the sleepwear that she had worn the night before.

When William had awoken to her touch and had realized what she was – or wasn't wearing, in this case - it had been all he could do not to pull her down next to him on the bed and explore every inch of her smooth, exposed skin. His hand tingled at the memory of the soft, silky feel of her thigh beneath his palm when he had stopped her from leaving the room. He drew in a shuddering breath and shook his head. Those thoughts would never do. She deserved his respect, not his improper imaginings. William walked to the bathroom where he undressed and quickly stepped into the shower.

Thirty minutes later, he was freshly showered and in the clean clothing, he had found in the dresser. He ran his hand along his jawline, wishing he could have shaved as well, but he had not seen a razor.

William descended the stairs and walked to the kitchen to pour his second cup of coffee of the day. He glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall – it was eleven o'clock. Lizzy would return from work shortly. A soft smile lifted his lips at the thought and he carried his coffee mug out to the front porch where he sat on the porch swing to enjoy the remainder of the morning until she returned.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Throughout the morning, Elizabeth debated whether or not to call the house to check on William. She wondered if he even knew what a phone was. _Did they even have phones in 1905?_ she asked herself. She rolled her eyes at the preposterousness of the need to even have such a discussion with herself.

She watched the minutes and hours slowly tick by on the pendulum clock on the office wall. By 11:15, she was unable to focus on the stack of paperwork in front of her. She turned when she heard the office door chime.

Connor, returning from an errand to the post office, entered the otherwise empty newsroom. He stopped in front of Elizabeth, sat down on the edge of her desk and regarded her with a raised eyebrow. "Soo," he began, a bemused expression lighting his eyes, "when I went to the post office, I happened to look down the block and saw a tall, dark and handsome man sitting on your front porch swing, drinking coffee. Care to explain?"

Elizabeth's eyes widened. _Crap!_ she thought. How on earth was she going to explain _that_? "Uh…" she prevaricated. "Yeah," she began, pretending to sort through the pile of paperwork on her desk. "That's my friend, William. He's a…college friend who is…staying with me for a while. He's, uh, he's looking to move to the area but wanted to see what it's like first, so I told him that he can stay in Michael's old room until he decides for sure." Elizabeth looked up from the paperwork and flashed Connor a wide-eyed, tight-lipped smile and shrugged.

Connor raised a skeptical eyebrow. He had known her for too long to believe that tale for even a second.

Elizabeth groaned and sighed. "Connor, please don't say anything to anyone else."

"Wanna talk about it?" he asked quietly, concern now clouding his normally untroubled, bright green eyes.

Elizabeth sighed again as she propped her elbows on her desk and dropped her head into her hands. Family issues, work issues, occasional bouts of hopelessness of ever finding her purpose in life – Connor had been there through them all, quietly prying her worries and fears out of her, and she had always felt better for it. The man should be a therapist. She had tried to set him up with her best friend, Charlotte, for years, but the two just hadn't been able to see eye-to-eye. It had been her one and only foray into matchmaking. Disastrous though it was. "Yes. But not right now," she muttered rubbing her temples before she glanced back up at him. "Do you want to come over for supper tonight?"

"What time and what can I bring?" he asked as he gave her shoulder a brotherly pat.

"Dessert. And thanks, Connor."

"Any time," he replied as he hooked his thumbs in his jeans pockets and strolled through the door to his office.

Elizabeth sighed. Connor was like a second brother. He had been friends with her younger brother, Michael, since grade school and, like her brother, Connor had delighted in harassing the living daylights out of her. Since he had started working at the newspaper after finishing college a few years earlier, he and Elizabeth had struck up a friendship built on annoying the bejeebers out of each other and relying on one another for the big things in life, just as real siblings did.

Elizabeth smiled tiredly and shook her head as she returned her attention to her computer monitor. The clock display in the lower right-hand corner of the screen read eleven twenty. She cleared her desk and shut down her computer before heading to the back of the building to find Herb.

She found him bent over a duplicator machine, apparently finagling with something he was trying to fix. "Hey, Herb," Elizabeth called.

"Yes," Herb answered as he turned around to face her, wiping his ink-stained hands on a towel. "What do you need, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth smiled. "I'm going to head out for the day if you don't need anything else."

Herb smiled back. "No, no. Everything is under control here. Have a good weekend."

"Thanks, Herb," Elizabeth answered as he turned back to his work.

Elizabeth stepped out of the air-conditioned newspaper office and into the heat and humidity of the spring day outside. She turned toward home and began the short walk to her house. When the house came into view, she paused under the shade of an oak tree that grew next to the sidewalk to gather her thoughts. She leaned back against the tree trunk and ground the heels of her hands into her eyes.

 _Okay,_ she mentally began, intending to give herself a pep talk. _Fact number one; there is a man in my house._ She closed her eyes and pressed her fingertips harder against her already aching head. _Fact number two, said man thinks that I am someone who lived and died over a century ago, and I look exactly like her. How is that even possible? Are the things I felt and saw last night even real, or was it due to my overactive imagination? Or, is William really some kind of mutant like in the X-Men comics, with the ability to control minds…_ Elizabeth shook her head, mentally pulling herself back from the edge of that rabbit hole. _Okay, focus!_ She mentally reprimanded herself. _We are_ not _, I repeat,_ _ **not**_ _going down that rabbit hole._ She exhaled heavily. _Fact number three. No matter what my feelings, either real or imagined, are, I need to keep my distance! I don't even know him and letting him think that I'm who he supposedly thinks I am isn't fair to him, either. There's no possible way that I could be_ _ **his**_ _Elizabeth! I'm me. I'm now. I wasn't anyone before…_ She struggled for the right way to phrase her thoughts. Coming up empty, she decided to put it on the "can't deal with it now" shelf, and shook her head. _The whole situation is impossible,_ she reminded herself.

 _No,_ she considered, that wasn't entirely true. She believed that William had traveled in time; she had seen the proof, unbelievable and impossible as it was to believe. "Okay," Elizabeth said out loud, as she opened her eyes and dropped her hands to her sides. "Fact number three still stands. After all, I don't know him. Even if I believe he's trustworthy, I have technically known him for less than twenty-four hours."

As she turned and squared her shoulders to walk the remaining block to the house, Elizabeth closed her eyes tightly and shook her head to clear the jumbled thoughts from her mind. When she did so, she saw the mental image of William's piercing blue eyes framed by dark lashes, felt the warm, gentle pressure of his hand on her thigh as she sat next to him on the spare room bed, and felt the gentle brush and accompanying electrifying tingle of his hand brushing her cheek and neck.

"Oh, man," she whispered. "Not. Good." Elizabeth opened her eyes, exhaled with a determined huff and firmly repeated to herself, "Fact number three," as she began to walk toward the house.


End file.
